Second Chances
by Renee Enderson
Summary: What if Bastila had been a captive of Revan's for a short time before the events of KOTOR 1? DSM Revan x Bastila.
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The air is so cold. I can feel the cold seeping through my mask, or perhaps it is my own breath that is so chilled. Even the stars outside the viewport seem cold. They might otherwise be a beautiful sight if not for the blanket of canon fire. I turn from the chaos outside the ship. I do not want to turn, but it is as though my body has a mind of its own.

Four Jedi stand before me, their lightsabers drawn. The one with the yellow lightsaber stands out among the others. "You cannot win, Revan!" I feel nothing but derision for this arrogant woman. Or is it derision for myself? It is as though I've looked into a mirror; but no, that cannot be. I look down at my hand. The gauntlet feels so thick and heavy. My fingers clutch a lightsaber with a death grip. It snaps to life with an ethereal red glow.

My mind is screaming to stop. But I am not in control of my actions. I step forward to destroy my enemies. Despite what the arrogant Jedi said, I can win. I know I can. My arm is raised, tense. My lightsaber is poised to strike at any moment. Or is it that I am hesitating to strike? Moments pass, and still I do not strike. It is as though time itself were holding its breath in suspense. Why do I hesitate? The grip on my lightsaber loosens ever so slightly. Am I about to drop it?

A blinding flash of light. I am consumed by fire. Terror grips me. I hear a scream. A woman's scream.

**.:.**

I awoke to the sound of my own scream. My fingers tightly clutched a blanket. My body was drenched in cold sweat. I sat up, wildly surveying my surroundings, my breathing heavy and irregular. I caught my reflection in the ship's small viewport to see two brown pigtails and a pair of blue eyes.

I was myself once more.

My breathing slowed as I slowly shook off my disorientation. I was sitting in the pilot's seat of my ship's cockpit. My pillow had slipped down to my lower back when I sat up. I took the blanket and used it to wipe the sweat from my face and neck. My hands were still trembling from the nightmare.

Or was it a vision?

"No, this cannot be," I whispered to myself.

There could only be one possible explanation for why I would dream of an event through Revan's point of view when I myself had witnessed it. My heart turned to ice at the full implications of this realization. My mind was bound to that of a maniacal Sith Lord. And unlike last time, not only a little bit, but a lot. For me to dream a fragment of his memory that had flowed into my own mind...It was a strong bond indeed. Fantastic. Just fantastic.

I rose from the pilot's seat, throwing the blanket to the floor. I had to see him. Part of me didn't want to. No, all of me didn't want to after that dream. But it was past time I checked on him. I reached the small cabin near the rear of the ship that I had turned into a makeshift medical bay. The ship was too small to have an actual med bay. I had had to make due with the little it had. It was my strike team's ship, actually. I was fortunate to have it at all. It had been a challenge to drag the broken Sith Lord's body from the bridge to the hangar. It was not just the physical exertion of dragging his body. No, that I could manage with the help of the Force. It was that seemingly every other deck or passageway leading to the hangar had sealed itself off. There were hull breaches everywhere, all courtesy of Malak's bombardment. When I had finally made it to the hangar, I was surprised the crew hadn't hijacked my small ship to escape. I think they nearly had, for our pilot lay dead outside, having given his life to defend it.

Revan was just as I had left him. Comatose. He was lying on the bunk in the cramped crew quarters. His face looked more hale than it had two days ago when we had escaped his flagship. The saline IV bag was running low. It was one of the few proper medical supplies I had found on the ship, and the only means I had to keeping him hydrated during the long hyperspace journey. It was the last one, and there was no replacing it. No matter. We would arrive at Dantooine in a few hours.

I inspected his bandages. At least the bleeding had stopped. But I knew it had anyway since I had applied every last kolto pack to his wounds. However, there was one wound that no amount of kolto on the whole of Manaan could heal. That was his head wound. The damage to his brain had been too severe. I had tried to heal his mind, to bring him back, but all I had gotten for my efforts was this comatose state.

And a Force bond with my captive.

I snickered at the irony of the situation. How the tables had turned! One year ago, I had been his captive. And now my would-be captor was at my mercy. Fortunately for him, I actually was merciful. I could not, however, guarantee that of the Republic when they asked for his comatose body to be tried for war crimes. Of course, the irony was lost on my captive. But if he could have known that our roles had been reversed, I know he would have given me his signature sarcastic laugh. And I would have gladly shared that laugh with him.

I shook myself from my reverie to peel off his kolto-soaked bandages. His wounds had healed well, leaving only the faintest of scars along his torso and limbs. I gingerly lifted his head. The kolto had healed the skin on the surface, but I knew that was only a symptom of the damage beneath. Blood was likely pressing against his brain. There was nothing more I could do, but get him to Dantooine's medical facility to be treated.

I sighed. How would I explain this Force bond to the Jedi Council? Worse, how could I convince them to help Revan? They would surely attribute my actions to the time I had been his captive. I had spent the last year since my escape from Revan's grasp proving that I was still loyal to the Republic—that Revan had not turned me to the dark side. I had used my Battle Meditation in every single major battle during that time. I was so close to being knighted, I just knew. All would finally be forgiven. And now this. They would surely think I was partial to him. That I was giving into my emotions. That I was a confused, maybe even brainwashed, Padawan under the Dark Lord's influence.

What argument could I possibly give that would prove otherwise? No, the Jedi typically did not kill their prisoners. But the Republic would certainly insist on a trial and inevitable execution. The mere fact that I had gone to such extremes to keep a dying Sith Lord alive would raise questions to which I don't think even I had the answers. But I knew he could be turned back to the light. We had to try. Malak had stolen his last chance before he could take it. Of that, I was almost certain. I just had to somehow convince the Masters of this. They had to be shown that he wasn't beyond redemption.

Determination filled me and I grabbed Revan's hand tightly, my way of promising to do all I could to give him that second chance at choosing right.

But would he take it?

**.:.**

Several days had gone by since I had arrived on Dantooine. The Jedi Enclave there was the peaceful balm I needed. Revan I left to the care of the medics. Master Zhar, a Twi'lek on the Enclave's Council, was the first Jedi Master I could find when I landed. He debriefed me and called a joint meeting of the Jedi High Council on Coruscant and the Dantooine Council. Today they had finally convened. I was not privy to their discussions. Rather, I passed the time in the gardens.

Peace eluded me, however. I feared the worst for Revan. For several hours I waited for word of the Council's proceedings. It was then that I had sought out Master Zhar, between Council sessions, to ask if I could speak to the Council. Not that I was so sure that anything I had to say would have any bearing at all on their decision. Nevertheless, I found out from him that my anxieties were unfounded, as apparently the Council already had it in mind to meet with me soon. Patience. I must learn patience.

Two hours later found me once again in the gardens, preparing myself to speak before the Council. It was then that I was summoned.

"Padawan Bastila, the Council is ready to see you."

I rose from my nook on the grass. Taking a deep breath, I followed Master Zhar to the Council chambers. He seated himself on a chair. I stopped in the center of the room and surveyed the members convened. Vandar, Zhar (of course), Vrook, Dorak, and holoprojections of the members of the Jedi High Council on Coruscant. I could feel my anxiety mount, and quickly recited the Jedi Code to calm myself.

I gave the Jedi Masters a deep bow from the waist.

Vandar, a small, green alien of an unnamed species, began. "Welcome back, Padawan. We understand from Master Zhar that you wished to speak with us concerning the fate of Revan."

"Yes, Master," I said. "I have come to plead for the life of Revan."

Vrook huffed. Zhar's lekku twitched. Vandar lazily blinked and titled his head ever so slightly. I could swear the holoprojections shimmered just a bit.

"Padawan," Vandar continued, "the Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners, if that is what worries you."

"Yes, I know, Master. What I mean is, I believe his mind could still be saved, if the Council is willing to use their collective power to bring him back."

"Hmm, yes. I understand. It was our original intent that he be captured alive and in good health. The information he has is invaluable. It would be to our benefit to restore his mind. You have done well, Padawan, to save his life."

I exhaled in relief, suddenly realizing I had been holding my breath.

"However," Master Vandar continued, "his mind is too shattered. If he can be saved at all, it will require a special connection to his mind. And if Master Zhar has told us correctly, you are the only one with such a connection."

Master Vrook held up a hand to interject. He was an aged, balding human, known for a stoic disposition. And I was well familiar with his disposition, as he was my own Jedi Master. "Forgive me, Padawan, but how exactly are you certain that you have a Force bond with Revan? Especially one so strong?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, collecting my thoughts. "When I found him on the bridge, he was so near death. I did the only thing I could think of. I tried to heal his mind with the Force."

Realization glimmered in Vandar's eyes. "I understand. Yes, that could very well create such a bond. But that is not all, is it?"

"No, Master. While bringing Revan to Dantooine I had a dream of our confrontation, just before Malak's ship fired. I was dreaming from Revan's perspective. It was his own memory..." I trailed off.

Vrook shook his head. "If what you say is true, then why bring back the Dark Lord at all? Why not simply reach into his mind with the bond and take the information we need?"

It was Zhar's turn to speak. "I understand your concern, Master Vrook. Regardless of whether we want to bring him back or not, it will be far easier to access his memories if he is alive. It will be nearly impossible to find precisely what we are looking for in his current state."

"Nevertheless," Vrook said. "I do not feel it is wise to restore Revan to his old self. He will resist sharing any information with us."

Vandar sighed. "I'm afraid Master Vrook speaks correctly. It is unlikely that Revan will voluntarily help us. And one of his great power will not easily allow us to access his mind."

No, this could not be! They could not leave him comatose! "Masters, forgive me, but I think he will if given the chance."

At that Vrook's head snapped up, his sharp gaze meeting mine, making me cringe inside. His words came in a torrent. "Padawan Bastila, surely you don't have an attachment to this...this _Sith Lord_, do you?"

I could feel my cheeks flushing red at that accusation. "No, of course not, Master! I was merely saying that I think he was on the verge of surrendering to us before Malak struck."

Vrook's eyebrows rose. Zhar's lekku twitched. Vandar lazily blinked.

"You _think_?" Vrook said. "You are not certain, then?"

I shook my head. "I cannot be absolutely certain, but I could feel the conflict within him."

Master Zhar leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped together, as though I were the only other person in the room. "Padawan," he said softly, "I understand your time as his captive was most difficult and confusing. It is not uncommon for captives to become sympathetic toward their captors. Especially after so long."

My mouth opened to protest, but he raised his hand. "I am not saying you have formed an emotional attachment to him. But yours is a compassionate soul. Are you certain that his 'near-surrender' is not merely wishful thinking on your part?"

Here it was. The moment of truth. "Masters, I know I have not spoken much of the day-to-day details of my captivity under Revan. I had hoped to leave all that behind me when I escaped. Perhaps it is time I told you everything. You know how I was coerced and manipulated as his prisoner. You know that I finally escaped. You also know that I have resisted the lure of the dark side. But what you do not know is the other side of Revan I witnessed. A spark of light lives in him still. And I believe I caught a glimpse of that same spark just before Malak struck."

Master Vandar closed his eyes for a few moments. Then he opened them again and looked me in the eye. "Please tell us, Padawan Bastila. It would be best if you started from the beginning."


	2. Capture

**CHAPTER 1 – Capture**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

I suppose it all began on an early morning on Dantooine, nearly a year and a half ago.

I was awoken from slumber by a loud knock at my door. I bolted out of bed. "Just a moment!"

I scrambled to wrap a robe around myself, and opened the door to my quarters. Master Vrook greeted me, his face solemn.

"I am sorry to disturb you so early, Padawan. A situation has arisen that requires your immediate departure."

"Departure?" My hand unconsciously rubbed against my eye to wipe the sleep from it.

"Yes. Please dress and pack your things quickly. Come to the Council chambers when you are ready."

I nodded as he turned and briskly walked away down the dormitory hall. I closed the door and leaned against it, still groggy. My eyes drifted to the clock on the nightstand. 0400. I had only arrived back on Dantooine late the prior night after a three-month run with the Republic fleet. As always, I was called upon to use my Battle Mediation at the front lines. I had been called back to Dantooine for a few days of respite, and to continue to sharpen my training with the Masters. In the few hours since I had returned, sleep had eluded me, mostly due to space lag. I had finally fallen asleep a mere hour before.

I dressed quickly and grabbed my travel bag, which fortunately was still packed. Making my way to the Council Chambers, I found Master Vrook waiting for me, along with Master Vandar. Apparently no one else was awake at such an early hour. I gave them a quick bow.

"Thank you for coming, Padawan Bastila," Master Vandar began. "A Republic ship has arrived with an urgent message from Admiral Dodonna. The Republic has received intelligence indicating that the Sith are about to attack Iridonia yet again in two weeks' time. We need you to depart immediately to rendezvous with the Republic fleet."

As you well know, Masters, Iridonia had changed hands many times already between the Republic and the Sith, due to being situated at vital hyperspace lanes connecting the outer rim with the inner rim. We held it for now, but barely. The planet was key to Revan's ability to push the war into the core worlds of the Republic.

"Yes, Master," I said. "I will do all I can."

"A shuttle will be landing soon to take you to the ship," Master Vandar said. "Go, and may the Force be with you."

I bowed to Master Vandar. Master Vrook stepped toward me. "Come, Padawan."

As we walked toward the landing bay, he began briefing me further. "I'm afraid we do not have a Jedi escort available for you on such short notice, but I trust that the protection of the ship's crew will be enough until you arrive at the fleet. There are Jedi there who can assist you."

I nodded. "Of course, Master."

We arrived at the landing bay. The shuttle had not yet arrived, so we waited quietly for a while.

Vrook broke the silence. "I must warn you, Padawan. You well know that Revan has a seemingly endless supply of ships. Our intelligence indicates that he is amassing nearly his entire fleet for this attack. He seems determined to invade the core worlds."

I swallowed hard.

"Padawan, you must keep your focus for the battle ahead. Remember all that I have taught you, and you will no doubt succeed."

"Thank you, Master. May I ask which Jedi Master will accompany me on this mission?"

Master Vrook shook his head in disapproval. "Surely by now you can manage without one, yes?"

I gaped at him dumbly. I was accustomed to Master Vrook assigning a Jedi Master to guide me for each mission, since I was a mere Padawan learner. That he thought I was ready to have such free reign surprised me. While it would not be my place to directly command the Republic soldiers, it would be my responsibility to wisely employ my Battle Meditation as I saw fit. To be given so much responsibility as a Padawan filled me with determination. I would not let Master Vrook down.

"Padawan?" Master Vrook awakened me from my surprised stupor.

"Y-yes, Master. I will try my best."

"Do, or do not. There is no try, Padawan."

"Yes, Master!" I remember being very pleased with myself for keeping my emotions under check enough to not break into a smile.

The shuttle arrived then, hovering onto the landing pad. I slung my travel bag over my shoulder, and habitually double-checked that my lightsaber still hung from my belt. Bowing to Master Vrook, I turned and walked toward the shuttle as its boarding ramp lowered.

Master Vrook called out to me. "Padawan Shan?"

I turned around to face him.

"May the Force be with you," he said with a small bow of the head.

"Thank you, Master. And with you as well."

**.:.**

The trip to Iridonia was several days. More than enough time to reach the Republic fleet before Revan did. There is not much to be said about the journey itself. The _Maelstrom_ was a _Hammerhead_-class cruiser. It was quite sizable, with a considerable crew to match. Admiral Dodonna had spared no expense at making sure I would be well protected. While she did not fully understand my Battle Meditation, she had seen its effects and was no fool when it came to protecting one of her assets. As soon as I boarded the ship, the first thing on my mind was recovering from space lag as soon as possible. With that thought in mind, I was shown my quarters, where my head promptly hit the pillow.

I kept to myself for the entire journey. Not that I did not leave my quarters. Only that I did not see any reason to fraternize with the crew. Of course, they didn't exactly have any inclination to fraternize with me. I suppose Jedi tend to have an air of mystery about them. It tends to unsettle the average citizen of the Republic. And the men and women of the _Maelstrom_ did indeed appear unsettled around me. Of course, it did not help that I was _the_ Bastila Shan. I got quite a few stares.

The first day of my time aboard the _Maelstrom_, after I had caught up on much needed sleep, I set out to explore the ship. Perhaps _explore_ is not the proper word for it. My sole intention was to make note of the locations of the escape pods, the bridge, the med bay, the armory, and anywhere else of importance should the worst happen. I knew it was unlikely that we would fall under attack before reaching the fleet, but it was a ritual for me whenever I came aboard a ship for the first time.

I found the escape pods on the command deck, accessible through one of the corridors, as well as through the bridge. I did make a mental note of the optimal route from my quarters to the escape pods, just in case. Not that I was a coward, but I knew I could never let myself fall into Revan's hands. It would certainly spell death for the Republic.

I feel I should mention something of the crew, for they were very valiant men and women. I have never spoken of these events in such detail before. It is difficult to relive these moments. Not that I have formed attachments to those who have passed. However, it is sometimes difficult to understand why some have to die that others might live. It seems so meaningless at times. Yet I hope by remembering their sacrifice in both word and deed that I might myself attribute meaning to their deaths. I regret to say that I never learned anyone's name. I wish I had taken the time to get to know the crew. I'm afraid I'm still learning how to stay properly detached while still remaining compassionate.

When we were due to arrive at Iridonia, I was on the ship's bridge ready to open a comm channel to speak with Admiral Dodonna. We were right on schedule, and more than ahead of Revan's fleet.

Or so we thought.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace with a lurch. It shook with the sudden impact of cannon fire. I fell from my chair by the comms. An ensign helped me up.

"Captain, what's happening?" I exclaimed.

"We're under attack! The Republic fleet...it's...it's gone!"

"What do you mean, _gone?" _I asked.

"Look outside. See for yourself."

I gazed out the viewport and felt my mouth drop open. The _Maelstrom_ had apparently dropped right into the middle of the Sith fleet, just out of orbit of Iridonia. The various Sith ships blockaded the planet—and us with it—with a few scattered and badly damaged Republic ships drifting into orbit. The Sith were finishing off whatever Republic vessels that hadn't managed to retreat. I could see Sith fighters outside the viewport, circling the _Maelstrom_ and dodging fire from our own cannons. But one ship stood out among the others. It was none other than Revan's own flagship.

"How...how can this be?" I was dazed. We had been sorely misinformed of Revan's arrival time. The Republic fleet could not have had enough time to fully group before Revan's surprise attack. The number of ships outside the viewport, though significant, did not seem to be Revan's full fleet. And with so little notice, I doubt he needed such a show of force to take the planet. It was the perfect setup. Yet I wondered then why he would even leak word of a planned attack on Iridonia at all.

My thoughts were interrupted by one of the ensigns. "Captain, they've boarded the ship!"

A hand roughly grabbed my arm. "Come on, you have to go, _now_!" The captain dragged me toward the door leading to the escape pods. Another blast rocked the ship. Sparks flew out of the computers on the bridge. A support beam fell. There was screaming.

Then the lights went out. Suddenly all was quiet, but for a deep metallic groan coming from the bowels of the ship. I heard a female voice. "We've lost all power to the bridge, sir. I can't route power from the backup generator."

I could hear the captain grappling to find something, and then saw a beam of light. He held the torch high. Support beams and portions of the ceiling had caved in around the door leading to the escape pods. The door itself was warped with the weight of the ceiling. I could see several limbs of soldiers amid the debris around the door and by the adjacent consoles. I was a hair away from being buried myself.

I closed my eyes to block out the sight and tried using the Force to open the door. The ceiling objected with a shrill creak.

I stopped, opening my eyes again. "Captain, I cannot open the door without bringing this side of the ceiling down on us."

"Then we'll have to reach the escape pods the long way around."

He turned to face the rest of the crew on the bridge, who by now had found torches of their own. "Listen up! We are all going to escort Commander Shan to the other escape pod door. With any luck, it's still intact. Her protection is our number one priority. Let's move out."

I drew my lightsaber. It snapped alive with a yellow glow. I kept only one side ignited for the light it provided. Fortunately, the main door to the bridge had been opened already when the Sith attacked. The archway was still intact by some miracle. We at least would not be trapped inside the bridge. The lights down the corridor leading from the bridge flickered. It was a positive sign that there was power in some places still. The captain and an ensign went ahead of me, with two others guarding my flank.

As we pressed on, we rounded a corner to see a group of Sith making their way to the bridge. All were either Sith Masters or apprentices. Revan had not sent mere soldiers to subdue the ship. A chill thought clawed at my mind. Was this entire ambush to capture me? Did he know that I was on board? I had no time to reflect on this further. The Sith attacked.

Blaster fire from the Republic troops rang in my ears. I saw several of the crew shot down by their own fire, the Sith's lightsabers having reflected the shots back to them. I ignited the other end of my lightsaber and charged ahead. The first Sith fell with a cut to his legs. I quickly parried a blow from his fellow, swinging the other end of my lightsaber up to cut through his stomach.

The Republic soldiers dropped their guns and drew their vibroblades. We rallied together and tore through the Sith apprentices quickly. I was impressed by the soldiers' abilities with their blades against these Sith. But it was not enough to take down the Masters. Two of our soldiers were cut down. The Sith were making quick work of us.

I struck at a Sith Master, only to have him paralyze me into stasis with the Force before I could mentally put up a defense. Suddenly, his eyes widened in shock. A metal blade protruded from his chest. The captain had run him through from behind. He slumped to the ground, dead.

The captain grabbed my arm, shaking me out of my paralysis. "Commander Shan, get out of here! We'll hold them off!"

"You won't stand a chance!"

He pushed me in the direction of the next section's door. "A captain always goes down with his ship." His dedication stunned me, to give his life so. "What is it you Jedi say? May the Force be with you."

"And...with you as well, Captain."

Two Sith Masters finished killing the remaining Republic soldier, and started toward us.

"Go!" the captain shouted. He lifted something metal out of a pouch. A thermal detonator. I turned and ran with all my might toward the door. I used the Force to open it as I ran, and closed it the same way behind me. The blast knocked me off my feet.

**.:.**

When I came to moments later, my face was lying on the cold floor. I rolled onto my back. My head ached. My eyes shut as I tried to focus, using the Force to sooth my head. The ache slowly subsided.

I arose and surveyed my surroundings. I could see the bodies of the crew lying throughout the corridor. The Sith had gone on a killing spree before reaching my entourage. The door behind me was severely damaged by the thermal detonator blast. I highly doubted anyone had survived that. I peered into the dark corridor ahead of me, the lights still flickering on and off. Once again, I made sure to ignite one end of my lightsaber as a lamp. And for protection. I cautiously ventured into the winding corridor ahead.

After several minutes, I finally came to a large blast door. I knew from my prior explorations that a large room lay behind it, with another corridor leading to the escape pods. As my hand reached for the controls to open the door, the hair on the back of my neck rose. I should have listened to my instincts, but what choice did I have? I had to press on. I took a deep breath to steady myself. The door opened.

The room was dark. I stepped forward cautiously. But not cautiously enough. Out of the shadows stepped Darth Revan himself—robe, mask, and all. With a wave of his hand the blast door behind me slammed shut. Yet he had not drawn his lightsaber. He did not need to, for ten Sith Masters followed him out of the shadows.

I was a cornered beast. There was no way out. And there was no doubt that if Revan himself had boarded the ship, then all this was for me. If he thought I would surrender, he was sorely mistaken.

I ignited the other end of my lightsaber and dropped into a defensive position. I would fight to the death and take down as many as I could before I died. The Sith circled around me. I kept my backside to the blast door to keep at least one side of me protected.

Still, the Sith did not strike, as though they were waiting for something. I used the delay to recite the Jedi Code in my head. _There is no emotion, there is peace. _I felt my heart rate slow. I would face my death with the calm of a true Jedi.

The Sith finally got what they were waiting for. At an almost imperceptible nod from the masked figure that was Revan, they closed in.

I swung my blade at my attackers with all the ferocity of a trapped Kath hound. Everything became a blur of strikes, blocks, and parries. Yet throughout it all I felt calm, almost invincible. One Sith after another fell to my blade. Masters, you would have been proud of me then. There was no fear in me. There was only an intense focus, my mind solely thinking of the next move. I felt nothing save the Force flowing through me and strengthening me.

But it was not enough to keep me from growing tired. My limbs soon felt like lead. It would only be a matter of time before I made a mistake. Still I did not give up. The remaining four Sith were circling me like Firaxan sharks, waiting for an opening. My breathing came in heavy gasps.

Two charged me from different angles. I swung my blade up to block one blow, and parried the other. I made to pivot on my foot and strike one of them, but it was then that my body gave into its weariness. My ankle twisted on itself. I stumbled, and caught myself with my other foot. But it was too late. One of the Sith took advantage of my imbalance. I quickly raised my blade to parry the rain of heavy blows he gave me, only to have the other Sith sweep his leg under mine. I once again lost my balance, and fell. As I went down, I wildly swept my blade under the legs of the Sith in front of me. He fell screaming. I lifted myself back up, ready to strike at the other Sith, only to have his foot strike me in my back, sending me face-down into the ground. I rolled quickly away and leapt to my feet, swinging my lightsaber up to block.

The Sith backed away, and began circling me again. I limped trying to stay facing them. I caught Revan out of the corner of my eye. He just stood there, as though studying me. It sickened me to see Revan so aloof, so untouchable. As though all this were just a form of entertainment for him. As though he just wanted to toy with me and see how long I could last before I was finally struck down. I could feel a deep rage build inside of me. It took all I had to calm myself. Forgive me, Masters.

It was then that Revan raised his hand. The Sith Masters stopped circling me, and backed away. Revan drew his red lightsaber with a snap, and walked toward me. The cat himself now wanted to play with his little mouse. Perhaps he sensed my rage and wanted to send me over the edge. I faced him, my lightsaber raised defensively. I refused to be the first to strike. I would not give into anger.

He stood mere feet away from me, dropping into an offensive Juyo stance. But he did not make the first move. He patiently waited, his cold mask staring me down. If it was a patience game he wanted to play, it was a patience game he'd get. I used the time to recover my strength. The moments passed. My breathing slowed once again. Calm filled me.

And Revan struck. I lifted my saber to deflect his strike just in time. Blow after blow rained down on my blade. Each blow was filled with fury. It was all I could do to keep up. I don't know how to describe it. It was as though I were fighting all ten of his Sith Masters in the form of one person. Even when I was fighting them, only a few at a time could attack me in such a closed space. To have so much come from one man!

My muscles were on fire again. I had to go on the offensive, or I would soon lose. I feigned a strike to his head, but swung the other end of my blade at the last minute to slice his torso. He deflected the blow with ease. I was back on the defensive.

My foot caught on the floor. I fell to one knee. But Revan gave me space to recover. A form of mockery, I suppose. His mockery angered me, I must confess, but I kept my anger under control. I would not give in. I lifted myself back up and charged forward, our blades clashing. His boot met my stomach. I staggered back. Still, he gave me room to recover. Our blades locked once more. We pushed against each other, neither willing to give ground. Suddenly I felt myself slammed back several feet into the blast door. I slumped to the ground, my lightsaber in a death grip. Every muscle ached. But I forced myself to my feet.

I staggered forward defiantly, and lunged to strike. His blows came in a torrent. My foot slipped, and I fell to the ground once again. I was now on my hands and knees, my lightsaber having been knocked out of my hand. Exhausted but still defiant, I raised myself to sit on my knees, breathing heavily, drenched with sweat. I did not have the strength to rise to my feet again.

I waited for him to strike me down. He just stood there, his lightsaber raised over his head, poised to strike. The moments passed. The mask peering down at me was cold and heartless.

Defiantly, I forced my gaze to meet where his eyes would be behind the mask. "There is no death," I whispered calmly.

Revan lowered his blade, turning it off. He slowly knelt down on one knee, his face a mere inch away from my ear. I could hear his breathing behind the mask.

"My dear Bastila," he coldly whispered back, "whoever said I wanted to kill you?"

Horror gripped me just before I felt the hard butt of his lightsaber on my brow. Darkness washed over me. _His_ darkness.


	3. Head Games

**CHAPTER TWO – Head Games**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

My eyes fluttered open. A cold metal ceiling came into focus, lit with a dim florescent glow. My head lay against a hard surface. My hands...I couldn't move my arms. They were bound. My feet as well. I could feel cool air brushing across my body. Apparently my clothes had been removed. Everything but my undergarments. As you well know, the Sith like to humiliate their prisoners. And I did feel humiliated—and vulnerable. I tried to lift my head to look around. The action made my head spin and ache. I closed my eyes to try to focus, but found myself too groggy. Something was choking at my neck. Then I finally understood. A neural restraining collar.

It seemed I was alone, wherever I was. An interrogation room, perhaps. Likely on Revan's flagship. However, there was no way to know how long I had been out. I could sense something pricking in my arm. An IV. I had probably been sedated.

Masters, I felt so helpless at that moment. I knew full well the tactics Revan and Malak used to turn good Jedi into Sith. Torture was not beneath them. The general strategy behind torture was to make the prisoner feel powerless, eventually breaking them. In breaking, they would find power in the dark side and fall. I feared the worst. Would I be strong enough to resist? Many Jedi Masters had fallen to the dark side with such torture techniques. If a Jedi Master could be turned, what chance did I, a mere Padawan, have? Masters, it was not the torture itself that I feared, but the likelihood of being turned into everything I fought against. I feared betraying the Jedi, the Republic, and everything I believed in.

I tried to suppress the fear that constricted my chest. _There is no emotion..._ I heard a door slide open, followed by heavy footsteps. I felt his dark presence before I even saw him. A cloaked, masked figure came into view, leaning over the table on which I was bound.

Revan.

He silently gazed down on me. I felt paralyzed under his cold glare. I squeezed my eyes shut and continued reciting the Code.

"Tell me, Bastila. Does reciting the Jedi Code comfort you?"

I opened my eyes again. I could not read anything from his expressionless mask, but I could imagine he was sneering at me.

"You're afraid," he simply stated. His voice was even, very matter of fact.

"I do not fear you," I managed to rasp. I did not realize until then that my throat was parched with thirst.

"Oh, but you do. Your fists are clenched. You are covered in sweat. Your entire body is shaking."

My response was braver than I felt, but I was determined not to give into fear. "I will never serve you," I spat.

"We'll see about that." A gloved hand touched my chin, turning my head to one side. He studied me with cold calculation. "You are very young. I expected someone...older."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

His hand left my chin. "No, you misunderstand me. I am glad that you are young. I find the younger ones more, shall we say, open-minded. Usually I am forced to break the older ones." He paused to stroke the stray strands of my hair from my face. "It would be a shame to break one so beautiful as you."

"Your threats do not frighten me." But they did, and I shivered under his touch.

"I do not threaten, Bastila. I am merely trying to reason with you. And I think you will find me most agreeable, if you give me the chance. Would you like some water?" A medic came into view to offer a glass of water to Revan, which he took. One of his gloved hands lifted my head up to the glass. I was too thirsty to refuse.

After a few awkward sips, he set my head back down. "There. Much better, yes?"

My throat did feel much better, but I wouldn't admit that to him. "There is no argument you could offer that would persuade me to join you."

His voice, already so calm and even, now turned smooth. "None at all? I find that hard to believe. Come now, let us reason together. You are indeed powerful, but you have so much more to learn. I could teach you ways of the Force of which your Jedi Masters never even dreamed."

"Your knowledge of the dark side does not in the least tempt me. You might as well go ahead and torture me for all I care. I will not join you." I was about to regret those rash words.

He saw right through my brave facade. "If that is what you wish, Bastila." He turned away and gave a curt nod. The medic stepped back into view on the other side of the table. He pressed a rolled cloth to my mouth. I refused to open my jaw, so he applied more pressure until I yielded.

"Forgive me, Bastila," the Dark Lord said, "but you'll want that to keep from biting your tongue."

I squeezed my eyes shut, my jaw clenching on the cloth for dear life, ready for lightning, choking, anything. The moments passed. Nothing. Cautiously, I opened my eyes. Revan just stared down at me. He started to chuckle. He was still toying with me, just as he had on the _Maelstrom_. His chuckle grew into roaring laughter. I ground my teeth into the cloth and glared at him.

"Oh Bastila!" he gasped for breath. "I'm so sorry! You just looked so ridiculous there."

I spat the cloth out. "I'm sure you find this most amusing."

He stopped laughing. "Now Bastila. You did ask for it. But while I confess that I do indeed find your reaction most amusing, I assure you I am not interested in torturing you, nor in giving you any reason to fear—yet." He let that final word hang in the air.

I would not let him intimidate me. I summoned all my courage. "Oh please. Do you really think you frighten me? Your fear tactics only show your own cowardice. I thought the dark side was supposed to be seductive. You know. Flowers and chocolate. But I suppose the only thing a monster such as yourself is capable of is terrorizing a helpless prisoner." I still can't believe I called him a monster to his face. And I would deeply regret my sarcasm about the flowers and chocolate for the duration of my stay with Revan.

Revan just stared at me for several moments. I half expected him to toast me with lightning right then and there for my sharp tongue. But he just slowly nodded. "So, you want me to seduce you?"

"What? No! I-I...Of course not! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Oh, but you just said..."

"No, I said the dark side was seductive, not _you_."

His words were smooth once more. "But I can be seductive. Very seductive." I must have visibly cringed. "Ah, but you think I'm a monster. No wonder."

What he did next shocked me. He removed his mask.

He was like nothing I had expected. I had always imagined his face to be deformed from his use of the dark side. It was anything but. I will not deny that I found his features not unattractive. I'm sure many women would say he was ruggedly handsome. As a Jedi, of course, I am above such physical attraction. Nevertheless, I found myself stunned by this revelation. No wonder he wore a mask. It was not to hide a monster, but to create the impression that a monster lay beneath. Fear of the unknown. It was most effective.

"See something you like?"

I was startled out of my thoughts. "What?"

"You're gaping."

"I-I...I wasn't..."

He pressed his hand to my chin to close my jaw. "I'll take that as a compliment. Still think I'm a monster?"

I finally recovered from my shock. Enough to finally notice the thing that had been staring right at me, if I hadn't been so fixated on the rest of his face.

"Your eyes betray you," I said. They were yellow. A sure sign of his immersion in the dark side.

"Indeed. And I will freely admit, I _am _a monster. But I am also a very seductive one."

I gave an indignant sniff.

"I see you're still playing hard to get. You women do like being chased. Very well. I shall oblige." He gave me a lopsided smirk.

"Oh please. I'd rather be tortured."

"No, no, we really should slow down with our relationship. I admit that skipping straight to the torture was very premature. Perhaps I can take you out to dinner first?"

I let out an exasperated sigh. "I see you are still intent on playing these ridiculous games with me."

He shook his head, becoming more serious now. "You may not like how I play, but count yourself fortunate that I do not hand you over to Malak to play with. I should warn you: He likes to break his toys."

That statement sent a shiver down my spine. I knew very well Malak's reputation. Everyone did after what happened to Telos. Not that Revan was so much better, but he seemed to focus his anger and harness it towards a goal. Malak, on the other hand, destroyed for the sake of destroying.

Revan continued. "As I said before, I would like to reason with you."

"You can talk all you want, Revan. I'm not listening."

"Fair enough. You will find I am a very patient man. And I am fully capable of being seductive, if that is what it will take to win you to my side."

I felt him slowly—teasingly—unlock the restraints on my wrists and ankles, his gloved hand softly brushing my bare skin there. I winced as he ripped the IV out of my arm. He left the neural collar in place, however.

"Go on, get up," he said.

Defiantly, I just lay there, crossing my stiff arms. "I won't play your game, Revan."

"But Bastila, how else am I supposed to take you out for dinner if you don't get up?" That comment wasn't even worthy of a response. "You're right, of course. You haven't had a chance to settle in yet. Tomorrow, perhaps?"

At the wave of his hand, two soldiers came. They took hold of my arms and forcibly stood me to my feet.

"Show Padawan Shan to her cell," the Dark Lord commanded.

They began to drag me to the door.

"Oh, and Bastila," the Dark Lord called to me. The soldiers stopped, turning me to face him. "I'll pick you up for dinner at 1800 tomorrow?"


	4. Dinner Date with a Dark Lord

**CHAPTER 3 – Dinner Date with a Dark Lord**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

My cell could have been better, but it could have been far worse. I suppose I should have been grateful Revan didn't throw me into an abandoned Rancor pit—leftover bones, drool, droppings, and all. The cell was cramped, but at least I had a pillow. I found a pile of clothing on my bunk. They were the black robes of a Dark Jedi. I was met with my first moment of choice then. Should I be so stubborn that I remain only in my undergarments, the laughing stock of my captor? Or would I let pride get to me and put on the robes? I refused to put them on. Revan would not get a single concession out of me.

I found myself very tired and disoriented, and decided to sleep off whatever drugs I had been injected with. However, sleep eluded me. There was no blanket to go with my pillow. Worse yet, my captor had turned down the temperature in my cell. I persisted with my stubbornness for several hours, but in the end common sense dictated that freezing to death served no purpose. Besides, if I did manage to escape, running around in my undergarments was sure to get me caught again. I put on the robes. They were soft and comfortable, snugly fitting my figure. Revan was showing me both the stick and the carrot at the same time. He was very adept at such manipulation. Nevertheless, I did finally sleep with the warmth the robes provided.

My first order of business when I awoke was to get the neural collar off my neck. I knew escape would be difficult, if not impossible, but I had to try something. Rescue was doubtful, especially if I was on Revan's flagship. I would rather die attempting to escape than give Revan even the slightest chance of turning me to the dark side. I felt around the collar with my hands, but could not find any release mechanism. Likely only Revan could remove it, perhaps by remote control or biometrics. That left only one other option. I knew it would take long to gather the concentration required to regain my sense of the Force. If I could just concentrate long enough to break it...

I sat on my bunk and meditated for what must have been hours. I poured every ounce of concentration into breaking through the cloud shrouding my mind. Finally, I could feel the Force again. Just a flicker. I drew on it, and began to focus my whole being on breaking the collar. I could feel the Force begin to flow through me. I was almost there...

I reeled on my bunk with a yelp. It was as though a knife had stabbed through my neck. I had to bend over to breathe, recovering my breaths in gasps. The collar was clearly tamper-resistant, sending an electric shock through its prisoner upon any attempt to remove it.

I would have to escape with the collar on. No matter. Whether I had my powers or not, escape was likely to be suicide. Better suicide than risking a fall to the dark side. Not that I would deliberately try to harm myself. But I would force Revan's hand. He would have to let me go or kill me.

After I had fully recovered from the electric shock, I rose to inspect the door to my cell. My hand searched along the wall for any controls. Nothing. Apparently the door only opened from the outside. However, I did find a panel with screws. Likely it shielded the wiring to the controls on the other side of the wall. Perhaps if I could somehow unscrew it...

The food hatch on the door opened, making me jump back. I hadn't even heard footsteps. Not surprising, given my grogginess from the neural collar. A tray of food slid through. With silverware.

The meal was something barely edible from the food synthesizer. However, Revan had a very sarcastic sense of humor. The meal came with a piece of dark chocolate, as well as a single red rose that lay across the tray. He reveled in sending me mixed messages.

I ate the food synthesizer slop regardless of taste and texture. I would need the sustenance for my escape attempt. And yes, I did eat the chocolate. It probably contained more nutrition than what came out of the food synthesizer. It certainly tasted better. When I finished, I took the spoon provided me. I got on my knees in front of the door and got to work on the panel.

Hours later, after much twisting and painfully slow progress, the last screw finally dropped out. I lifted the panel from the wall. It was a tangle of wires inside. I couldn't tell which one would open the door, so I pulled on them one at a time. The door slid open at last. I rose quickly to claim my victory and step through the door, but stopped short. My breath caught in my throat.

"Revan."

"Why hello, Bastila. I see I've interrupted you in the middle of something very important."

I silently fixed an icy glare on his mask.

He crossed his arms. "Lost track of the time?"

"What?"

"It's 1800."

I stared at him quizzically.

"Dinner?"

"Y-you can't be serious!"

"I am always serious. Come, walk with me."

He didn't exactly give me a choice in the matter. Two soldiers entered. They forcibly pushed me out of my cell toward Revan, who offered his arm. With no other option, I fell into step beside him, but I refused to take his arm. This action, of course, did nothing to faze Revan. He simply took hold of my arm for me. As we walked down the corridor, the soldiers pointed their guns at me from behind. No doubt set to stun. Revan was no fool. He would not want to risk the health of his prize at the hands of two trigger-happy soldiers. Making a run for it would be pointless. And Revan knew it.

We walked out of the cell block and into the belly of the beast that was Revan's flagship. Many corridors and lifts later we entered a large room. A viewport with a magnificent view of the swirling stars of hyperspace filled one side. The room was sparsely furnished. Nothing lavish. Revan was a soldier through and through, even with all the power and wealth his empire afforded him. It had a very plain desk with a plain chair. A drab couch with a caffa table sat to one side, facing the viewport. Nearby was a small table with two chairs. I assumed it was his private office of sorts, perhaps even the anteroom to his quarters, as I saw another door, though it was closed.

"Please, do sit." Revan gestured to one of the chairs at the table. He dismissed the two soldiers with a brief nod.

I stubbornly crossed my arms and remained standing.

"This isn't about the neural collar, is it? I suppose I should have warned you about the anti-tampering device."

"H-how did you know that I..." I sputtered.

"You didn't think you wouldn't be monitored, did you?" I felt very foolish then. I had never exactly been held prisoner before, but surely I should have guessed. "Besides," he continued, "you were clearly trying to escape when I arrived, and obviously you would have tried to remove the collar before resorting to using a spoon to open the door."

Masters, forgive me. I felt nothing but revulsion for that man. He still continued to play these infuriating games with me. All for his own sick amusement. I'm sure the spoon was a setup. I suppose even having a panel that was screwed into the wall rather than welded should have been a warning flag to me. I couldn't help but glare at him with indignation.

"I do apologize for my manner, Bastila. But you must admit, it is rather amusing. I wonder what you'll try next?"

I kept my silence. He moved to place his hands on my shoulders, applying pressure to steer me toward the table. Once again, I found myself with no choice in the matter and sat down.

"There. Better, yes?" He sat down across from me and removed his mask. I refused to look at him, and stared down at the table. It had a single candle lit. A poor attempt at romance.

A Twi'lek servant girl—scantily clad, I might add—appeared bearing a tray with wine and plates of steaming food. She set the food down on the table before us, and proceeded to pour each of us a glass of wine (which, of course, I did not touch). I couldn't help but give an indignant sniff as she left. Just like a megalomaniac to surround himself with half-naked servant girls. I suppose there's nothing better for a male with all that power to do with himself. No self-control over his base emotions or primitive drives whatsoever. Truly, he was a slave to the dark side.

Revan noticed my cold manner toward the girl. "What's the matter Bastila? You aren't jealous, are you?"

"J-jealous? What-why...I...There's nothing to be jealous of!"

"Of course there isn't. You know I only have eyes for you." He leaned toward me, I'm sure seductively in his mind.

"Hard to believe that when you surround yourself with scantily clad women."

"So my little kinrath pup _is_ jealous!"

"N-no! I-I...Oh, you are infuriating! I am only saying that you have lost all self-control over your primitive drives."

"Oh? Well, I never thought of it that way. I simply admire the female figure. And if my being surrounded by such scantily clad females makes you jealous, you are more than welcome to be scantily-clad yourself."

"Y-you're disgusting! To even think-"

"Please, Bastila, the food is getting cold." He pushed my plate toward me. I kept my arms crossed. "Don't knock it until you try it," he said.

"Nonsense! I would never wear so little just to amuse _you_!"

"No, Bastila, I meant the food. The butter-fried gizka is particularly good."

I blushed crimson. I just had foot-in-mouth disease that day. And the day before that. And probably every day of my life prior, but under such circumstances I had hoped to have more control over my sputtering. I finally thought it best to just shut up and eat something. Better to eat than to utter something even more embarrassing, if that were even possible. I stuck a fork into a gizka leg and raised it to my mouth. He was right. It was very good.

"I promise it's not poisoned." I spat it out. He laughed hysterically. I put the fork down and glared at him in stony silence, but that did little to stop his laughter.

Finally, he settled down. "Seriously, Bastila. You must try to trust me to some degree. You seem so tense. I'm only trying to lighten the mood between us."

"If I am tense, it is because I am held prisoner by a maniacal Sith Lord!"

"Bastila, surely you must know that I have no interest in harming you?"

"As I said, you're a maniacal Sith Lord. Your interests could change at a whim. What reason do I have to trust you for anything?"

"Your abilities are far too valuable for me to kill you. That should be enough."

"But it isn't. If you were to have the upper hand in this war, you would no longer need my abilities, now would you?"

"But I already do have the upper hand."

"Exactly."

"But I assure you that it is not enough. I want to end this war quickly and decisively. With you at my side,my fleet would be invincible. The Republic would soon surrender. We could avoid many senseless deaths. And"—he leaned forward—"even if I had my victory this very day, I would still want you by my side. There is always another war on the horizon."

I found his last statement rather cryptic. I meant to ask him what he meant by it, but he changed the subject.

"Anyway, enough talk of war for now. Such stressful topics should not be discussed over dinner. Bad for digestion. Wouldn't you agree?"

I looked at him incredulously. "Why else are we here if not to talk about my joining you?"

"Well, there's that. But I also want you to relax and enjoy your dinner. And, I hope, my company."

"And just why would I enjoy your company?"

"Because I'm charming?" He gave me a lopsided smirk.

I sniffed. "As charming as a drooling Rancor."

"I'm so glad you think Rancors are charming. I've always thought them so."

I rolled my eyes and took a bite of food to stop myself from retorting.

His voice dropped to a serious note. "I know you feel I'm nothing more than a mindless beast, Bastila. But what I have done, I have done for the greater good. I am not some murdering lunatic hacking away at random strangers with a lightsaber. I have a higher purpose." He was leaning forward intently now. "Some sacrifices must be made, yes. Am I a monster to make them? Yes. But in the end, the Republic will thank me. As will you, when you at last join me."

"I will never join you. You mask your greed with lofty ideals, but I see through your mask, Revan."

"Greed? Yes, I do admit that power has its appeal. But what good is power if it is not used for a grand purpose? I plan to use my power repair the Republic. The Republic is diseased and weak. Its leadership is corrupt. I will bring strength and purpose to it."

"It seems to me the Republic was doing just fine before you turned on it."

"May I remind you of the Mandalorian Wars? The Republic's weakness showed itself then. If it weren't for me, it would have fallen."

"You don't know that. The Order would have joined eventually. And if it weren't for you it wouldn't be falling right now. If you had just been patient to begin with-"

"Patient? You try being patient when defenseless women and children are being slaughtered!" He was shouting now. He caught himself, and sat back into his chair, closing his eyes.

"I apologize, Bastila. I only wish to make you understand. You only see one side of the coin. If you could have seen what I have seen..." He trailed off, and picked at his meal.

Maybe it was a need to understand him, to find a means of reasoning with him. Or maybe it was simple curiosity. But I had to ask him. "And what exactly is the other side of the coin?"

He dropped his fork and looked up at me. "Do you know why it is the Republic was losing the War before the Jedi joined? The Senate was too busy squabbling and playing politics over which worlds the fleet was to defend. Including the Supreme Chancellor. If the Republic's leadership had been less concerned with reelection and more concerned about people dying, I have no doubt the Jedi's aid would not have been needed."

I had no answer to that.

He continued. "That is why someone must bring strong leadership."

I averted my eyes and stared down at my plate. Then a thought occurred to me. I looked back up. "Why you? The War is over. There is no pressing need for a single leader to win a war. Why not let the people decide and elect new leadership if they deem it necessary?"

"The people are fickle. Their memory is short. Even if they vote out the current leadership, they will only replace them with more corrupt politicians. And like I said, there is always another war on the horizon."

"But why you? Why not another?"

"I was the one who led the Republic to victory. I shed my blood for the Republic. I gave up years of my life, even my position in the Jedi Order, to defend her. I deserve something back. The Republic needs me—_my_ leadership. I can bring order to the galaxy."

I could not believe my ears. Whatever semblance of reason he had been displaying was quickly swallowed by his egomaniacal Sith persona.

I gave him a sad look. "You truly are lost," I said.

"No, Bastila. Quite the opposite. I have finally found myself."

He peered into my eyes for the longest time. Finally, he broke eye contact and returned to his meal. I released a breath I hadn't realized until then that I had been holding. We finished the meal in silence, for which I was grateful.

Before I knew it, the servant girl had returned and was taking away our empty plates. Revan rose and offered his hand. "Care to join me on the couch? I thought we'd have dessert there, since we're about to drop out of hyperspace. You can't beat the view."

I grudgingly accepted the proffered hand and allowed him to lead me to the couch. Several moments passed, and there was no sign of dessert. Revan must have noticed my puzzled expression.

"Dessert is in precisely"—he glanced at the chrono on his wrist—"fourty-eight seconds."

"Excuse me?"

"Wait and see." He continued to look at his chrono. "In three, two, one..." The ship dropped out of hyperspace with a slight shudder. "Ah, right on time!"

The swirl of stars focused into pinpricks. But more than stars met my gaze. Bright flashes of weapons fire from Revan's ship filled the viewport, unloading on a small fleet of Republic ships.

I froze in shock. All I could do was watch in horror as Revan's fleet annihilated the Republic ships in what seemed like slow motion. His fleet made quick work of them, and after several minutes the last remaining Republic ship exploded in full view. I winced and turned my head away. Away from the viewport. Away from Revan. Tears filled my eyes.

We sat there in silence. Finally, I could take it no longer. Rage filled me, to my shame. "Monster," I whispered.

I felt him lean in close to whisper in my ear. "You see, Bastila. Resistance is pointless. I will defeat the Republic with or without your help. You can either fall to the dark side, or be defeated by it. And judging by your tone, you are already falling."

At that statement I squeezed my eyes shut and fervently recited the Jedi Code in my mind. I had to get control over my emotions.

Revan's voice interrupted my recital. "Guards, please escort Padawan Shan to her cell." The two guards from earlier, whom I hadn't even realized had entered the room, dragged me to my feet.

Revan rose from the couch. "And, Bastila, do be ready by 0600 tomorrow."

The guards stopped. I looked at Revan quizzically. "Ready? For what?"

"Your training."

"Pardon me? I will do no such thing-"

"I believe you don't have much choice in the matter, my apprentice."

"Apprentice? I am certainly _not_ your apprentice!"

"Well, if you didn't want to be my apprentice, then you shouldn't dress like it."

"Of all the-! I had no choice but to wear this!"

He shook his head with a smirk. "You always have a choice, Bastila. You could have remained scantily clad, for example. Albeit, I still win either way, don't I?" He shot me a wink, making the blood rush to my face in embarrassment.

His demeanor turned serious once more. "Still, you made your choice. Now live with it." He nodded sharply to the guards, who resumed escorting me out of the room.

Force help me, I wanted to kill that man. Forgive me my anger, Masters.


	5. Sticks and Carrots

**CHAPTER 4 – Sticks and Carrots**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

I spent the night once again in my cell. This time, I was doggedly determined to get the neural collar off. Whatever plans Revan had for me as his "apprentice," they could not be good. I had to keep trying to escape, no matter what. And this time, I had something up my sleeve to use as a weapon. Let's just say that with a little luck—or rather, the will of the Force—the servants didn't count the silverware after dinner.

It was no use, however. I must have shocked myself at least eight times in trying to remove the blasted thing. Just when I would start to get a sense of the Force, the collar would stop me. I'm sure Revan found the footage of me in my cell yelping in pain to be entertaining. I finally gave up when it shocked me unconscious.

Morning came (if you could call it that in space) with me still unconscious and utterly exhausted. That did not stop the guards from barging into my cell and dragging me to my feet. It was certainly not a gentle way to be woken up. I struggled with them, but they merely kicked me in the shin and dragged me, one on each side, out of the cell. They had to continue dragging me through the corridors, as I stubbornly dragged my feet the whole way.

This time, the guards brought me to a large room with mirrors on three walls and a prominent weapons rack. Darth Revan was waiting for me, his back facing the door through which the guards so mercilessly shoved me.

"Good morning, Padawan. Or, shall I say, my a_pprentice_." Unmasked, he turned around half way and shot me a haughty wink.

The guards bowed and exited, shutting the door behind them and leaving me alone with Revan. I straightened myself to gain what composure I could and glared at him defiantly.

"I trust you had a very restful sleep while trying to remove your neural collar," he smirked.

I remained silent, my icy glare never wavering.

"Well then, enough with the pleasantries." He closed the distance between us and grabbed my arm. I tried to pull away from him, but his fingers only dug into my skin.

"Now, before we begin, I must insist"—his free hand moved up my sleeve—"that you surrender your little weapon."

Apparently his servants counted the silverware after all. Neither luck nor the will of the Force was with me that day.

Revan looked down at my "little weapon." "So were you planning to stab me to death with a dirty fork? How very Sith-like of you."

"No, I was planning on stabbing the guards to death after I got the neural collar off. And no, I don't see how ensuring my escape makes me 'Sith-like.' It would only be in self-defense."

"Nevertheless, the thought of you stabbing someone with a dirty fork does sound rather brutal. Especially as both guards have small children at home." He paused, his eyes narrowing as if sizing me up. "Yes, you'll do very well," he muttered almost inaudibly. But I heard it, and it disturbed me.

Turning away, he walked to the weapons rack and placed the fork down on one of the shelves. He then removed something from the rack. "Here. Catch."

I fumbled as I caught the object, trying not to drop it. Then I realized what it was. I don't think I could have looked more incredulous then. When Revan said he would "train" me, I figured he was going to forcibly expose me to the dark-sided energies of a Sith holocron or some other artifact that would overwhelm my defenses.

The last thing I expected was for him to toss me a training saber. As if I needed lightsaber lessons from a Sith Lord!

"No," I said. "I refuse to 'train' under you, or to do anything else you have in mind. And I certainly don't need lessons in lightsaber technique from the likes of you!" I threw the offending object to the side and crossed my arms defiantly.

"Oh Bastila, you do pain me so!" Revan placed his hand on his heart for effect. Then he became more serious. "However, I must disagree with your position that you don't require lessons in lightsaber techniques. If there were no room for improvement on your part, I would be dead."

"Oh please! I was outnumbered and you know it!"

"Ah yes, but I am referring to our one-on-one fight after. Besides, you were at no risk whatsoever when my men attacked you. I made sure they understood they would all suffer and die horrifically if you lost so much as a single strand of your hair. I found it rather amusing to see which ones survived. It was certainly an entertaining means of thinning out the weak from among the ranks."

So that was it, then. It was all part of his game. "Coward," I spat.

His eyebrows shot up. "Coward? How so?"

"If you had had the backbone to face me without your Sith Masters to wear me down first, would you have won our fight?"

"Of course I would have. Your offensive technique is sloppy."

I huffed, incredulous. "Master Zhar himself trained me in weaponry. If you think to get a rise out of me by insulting my lightsaber form, it won't work."

"Forgive me. I concede that your defensive technique is quite excellent. The best of the best. I only meant that I would have eventually worn you down the same as my Sith Masters did. You cannot win simply by being on the defense. Especially against such an offensive form as mine."

"You speak of the path to aggression."

"No, Bastila. It is not a matter of aggression. Believe me, I am not making an argument for you to give into your anger to make you stronger. Quite the opposite. I am merely helping your overall form. You know what they say. The best defense is a good offense. You lack a good offense."

To that I had nothing to say. Master Zhar himself had said that very saying to me. But at what point did offense become aggression? I was always wary of giving into aggression and anger to fuel my technique. Had I gone too far to the other extreme? Perhaps he was right. But no, I could not entertain such thoughts. I knew he was merely trying to twist my mind.

"You know," he continued, "I would love nothing more than to help you with your form."

I rolled my eyes. "I bet you would."

"If you trained with me, you'd have a chance to strike me down with a real lightsaber someday..."

"Do you honestly think I'll bite such an obvious carrot you're dangling?"

"I promise not to teach you anything contrary to the teachings of the Jedi—for now."

I sighed. He was trying to bait me into compromising small things. He knew what he wanted and, knowing that, would never let up until he got it. One small bite at a time, if need be. I wouldn't give him so much as a crumb.

"Now," he continued, "if you are ready, pick up your saber."

"Absolutely not. Besides, I'm a little constrained by this collar here."

"You don't need the collar removed to defend yourself. There are many things you can learn that don't involve use of the Force. Now, pick it up."

"No, Revan. I will not give in."

He sighed. "Very well. We will do this the hard way, then."

I had little time to react when he charged me, his own training saber ignited. He slashed at my legs, and I fell to the ground with a yelp from the searing pain.

"Get up," he said.

I just sat there and crossed my arms, my fists clenched.

"Bastila, you are so stubborn. While that can be a positive quality at times, now is not one of those times. As I have no wish to slowly burn you to death with a training saber, I insist you get up."

"No."

He slashed my left arm. I ground my teeth to keep from crying out.

"Oh please, quit playing the martyr."

He slashed at my other arm. This time I couldn't help but gasp from the burn he gave me.

Finally, he knelt down next to me, and whispered in my ear. "Where do you think this gets you? I'm not the one torturing you. You only torture yourself. You are not restrained on one of my tables. You even have a weapon with which to defend yourself. No one would blame you if you did not wish to suffer pain needlessly."

"I would blame myself," I whispered back bitterly. "I won't give you an inch. You will never turn me."

"I'm trying to help you."

"I bet you are."

"Bastila, even if you don't get up, I won't stop. And what doesn't kill you will make you stronger. So you see, either way, I win. You remember that."

He rose and struck me again. And again. And again. Until I passed out.

**.:.**

I awoke sometime later in my cell wearing nothing but my undergarments and the bandages that covered my body. I slowly sat up and gingerly lifted one of the bandages on my arms. Whatever welt or burn that had been there was healed. The bandage smelled of kolto. After removing the other bandages, I rose to put on my dark robes, which were now folded on the floor next to my bunk. There are some pains no amount of kolto can erase. Every muscle ached. It hurt to so much as put my arms through the sleeves of my shirt. I lay back down as soon as I was dressed.

Hours passed in which I had much time to think about the morning's "training session." Would Revan do this to me again? This was no different than torture in my mind. Revan claimed I was unrestrained, but that was not true. I was restrained by my moral compass, the teachings of the Jedi. I knew giving him any ground would lead to my fall. And so I once again was determined not to defend myself in any way. I would take this manipulative form of torture with the serenity of a true Jedi.

I was too tired to try another escape attempt, so I spent the rest of the day in my cell meditating on the Jedi Code. Some food was brought, and like the day before I tried to eat the barely edible slop from the food synthesizer.

Around dinner time, the guards came for me again. As sore as my muscles were, I struggled once more, just to make a point. They dragged me off to Darth Revan's quarters, or whatever that anteroom was where we had had dinner the evening before.

Once again, Revan forced me to sit at the lone table. Once again, a candle was lit. And once again, a fine dinner was brought. We ate in stony silence. In fact, I was rather surprised Revan did not strike up even so much as a monologue, as in love with the sound of his own voice as he was. No, rather, it was as though he were in deep thought. And I knew very well at whom his thoughts were directed. He was studying me. Trying to decipher me. Trying to see what made me tick. Where my weaknesses lay. I was a puzzle he wanted to solve. Whenever he looked at me through the candlelight his brow would be knit, his eyes searching my face for some clue for the solution to breaking me. At times I would look up and find a sly, almost seductive smile on his face, but I did my best to ignore him.

After dinner, he motioned for me to rise and join him once more on the couch in front of the viewport. I was worried that he would force me to helplessly watch another battle, but then he surprised me by remaining standing behind me as I sat. I felt his hands move to the back of my neck. Gently, yet firmly, he began to knead it, working around the collar. I stiffened in response to this unexpected and unwelcome attention.

"Relax, Bastila. You look tense." I momentarily relaxed, though I was still suspicious. "I promise I won't snap your neck."

I nearly jumped out of my own skin. Then I felt my face flush with embarrassment as Revan began laughing uncontrollably. Inwardly, I berated myself for not keeping calm when he made that remark. I should have had more control. I should have expected something like that from him.

He finally managed to stop laughing. "Forgive me, Bastila. I couldn't help myself. But no, seriously, allow me to make up for this morning's training session. I see I was too hard on you."

"As if you care," I hissed.

"Of course I care. You are a valuable asset. Your health and well-being are therefore as important as my own." His hands returned to my neck. I stiffened once more. "Please do relax. I promise not to make any more such remarks for the remainder of the evening."

"Well maybe I don't want a massage from you."

"It doesn't matter what you want. I will be giving you a massage either way. You can either relax and benefit from it, or end up more sore than before. Choose."

I huffed with indignation, stiffening further.

"Relax," he cooed in my ear. His fingers deftly glided down my neck to my shoulders. As much as I didn't want to give him the satisfaction, my muscles couldn't help but slacken as he gently rubbed a particularly sore spot.

Revan continued to rub my shoulders in small circles as he whispered in my ear. "Consider this my apology. I see now that I've gone about this all wrong."

"As if there were a right"—I took in a sharp breath as he hit a raw nerve on my shoulder—"way to go about this."

"Oh but there is, Bastila. I see what I've done wrong now." His lips almost touched my ear. "I've given you too much stick, and not enough carrot. I plan to amend that tomorrow."

"As if I'd honestly bite any carrot you'd dangle."

"You're biting this one, aren't you?"

I shot up from the couch. "Then I'm spitting it back out!"

Revan just stood there, the couch between us. He met my glare with more calm than the most serene Jedi. The lopsided, self-satisfied grin he gave me was the only thing that betrayed the image of Jedi serenity he projected.

At long last he spoke. "Well then, we agree. You are clearly willing to bite. It's only a matter of finding a carrot you can swallow."

"There is no carrot you could offer that I would not vomit," I seethed.

"We'll see about that," he said coolly. He let a few awkward moments of silence pass between us before he turned and began walking toward the door. "Come along, Bastila. It's getting late. I want you well-rested for tomorrow."

I didn't move.

"Unless, of course, you'd rather stay the night and let me massage the rest of your body."

Flushing red, I grudgingly followed him. The door opened with a swoosh, and two guards entered to take me to my cell.

"I bid you goodnight," Revan said with a mock bow. I rolled my eyes.

Before I could go two steps out the door, he lightly grabbed my arm, stopping me. He took my hand in his and placed a cold metal object there.

"Don't forget to put this up your sleeve," he said.

I gazed down at the object in my hand. A fork. "Why...?"

"You can sleep with it under your pillow if it makes you feel better. Although I'd prefer you'd not bring it to training. I don't want you distracted with delusions of escape."

Oh Masters, I could have stabbed him right there with it. His arrogance made my blood boil. He well knew this, as my fist visibly clenched around the handle.

He gave me a light chuckle. "Goodnight, Bastila."


	6. Unsettling Revelations

**CHAPTER 5 – Unsettling Revelations**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

I spent the night in my cell again. I made no effort to escape. Revan was right. It was only a delusion to think that I could get more than twenty feet outside my cell. Instead I slept, thinking to rest for whatever Revan would throw at me.

But what he threw at me the next morning in his training room was quite unexpected.

A lightsaber.

No, not a training saber. A real lightsaber. _My_ lightsaber.

"You're...you're giving me my lightsaber?" I asked, staring at the object he had tossed me.

"You sound surprised?"

I eyed him suspiciously. "What game are you now playing?"

"Game? This is no game. As I said last evening, I've given you too much stick, and not enough carrot. Perhaps this carrot will suffice?"

"What's the catch? This is obviously a ploy to tempt me to the dark side. Am I supposed to strike you down in anger or something?"

"Oh no! I wouldn't dream of it! Not yet, anyway. Consider this your chance to escape. If you can kill me, then you may go free. In fact you can claim the mantle of Dark Lady of the Sith for all I care."

"Liar."

"I have no reason to lie, Bastila. Because I am more than confident that you cannot defeat me."

"Certainly not with this collar."

"That's an excuse, and you know it. You are a perfectly capable fighter without your Force powers. And as I promised yesterday, I won't be using Force powers myself."

"Then wear a neural collar yourself."

He shook his head. "As much as I'd like to indulge you, if word were to get around that I'm wearing a neural collar, more Dark Jedi with delusions of grandeur than I could count would barge in here to kill me."

"You poor dear."

He gave me a laugh. "So glad you care. Now, what do you say? Want a chance to take me down?"

My eyes narrowed. "You honestly can't expect me to believe that you would leave yourself at risk of death or mutilation."

"As I said before, I don't think you can actually do it."

"I might if it were a truly fair fight. Again, what's the catch?"

"There is no catch. You have my word I won't use the Force. I'll even sweeten the deal by using a training saber. I can only defend myself. You will not come to harm."

"Yes, I'm sure you don't want your prized possession damaged."

He gave me a wink. "That's the idea."

"Have you rigged my lightsaber somehow?"

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"You can believe whatever you want, Bastila. My offer is what it is. Take it or leave it."

My palm burned with temptation as I held my lightsaber. I wanted so much to ignite my weapon and strike Revan down. But I knew better. I could not risk giving into anger. I made my decision then. I threw my lightsaber aside. "I'll leave it, thanks anyway."

Revan sighed. "Why must you be so stubborn?" It seemed he gave me a sad smile. "I suppose we're going to have a repeat of yesterday, then."

"I guess so," I said.

I had barely finished speaking when he charged me, training saber drawn. Instinctively I dodged aside. I hadn't meant to. It was the only reaction I could muster in my surprise. He looked equally surprised at my move. A sly smile formed on his lips as he charged me again. This time I held my ground and let him burn my shoulder. I didn't have time to wince from that blow before he hit me again. And again. And again. I remained standing this time. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of curling into a ball as I had the day before.

My fists clenched tighter with each blow. At last I could stand it no longer. I was beyond frustrated. Each burn I received boiled my blood further. I felt helpless, and yet there was a way out right in front of me. It was so tempting. My lightsaber was within reach. What if I really could strike him down? What if I could not only escape, but defeat Darth Revan? But I did not wish to give him what he wanted.

He could clearly see the struggle written on my face. But rather than taunt me verbally as I expected, he just smiled and laughed.

That's what sent me over the edge. Self-preservation, years of Jedi training, maybe even fear—call it whatever you will—took over. To be honest, Masters, I'm not entirely sure why I did it. No, wait. I did know. I just didn't want to admit it. It was pride. I couldn't stand his smugness. I couldn't stand that a means to possibly end the threat that plagued the galaxy was mere feet away. I couldn't stand that I had to endure his impish form of torture when I wasn't even shackled to a table. I couldn't stand that he thought so little of my abilities that he thought I required training. I couldn't stand that he thought himself so above me that he thought I couldn't so much as land a blow on him. Each blow he gave me reinforced that I would be his prisoner indefinitely. I wanted to prove him wrong.

I ducked his next blow and reached for my lightsaber mere feet away on the ground. Revan looked at me at first in shock at the yellow blade that crossed with his red one. Then he gave me his trademark smirk.

"Well done, Bastila," he said.

Horrified, I turned my lightsaber off and flung it to the ground.

Revan turned off his own saber, a frown creasing his face. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It was self-defense."

"If it's something you wanted me to do, then, yes, I do have something to be ashamed of."

"Bastila, you act as though I mean you harm."

"I think that tempting me to the dark side counts as doing me harm."

"From your point of view, not mine. Personally, I'm quite proud of you."

"Proud of me?"

"Yes. I'm watching you break free of the teachings of the Jedi."

"Their teachings do not imprison me! They keep me from turning into a yellow-eyed monster like you." I walked up to him and shoved my finger into his chest. "And I'd like my eyes to stay blue, thank you very much!"

An amused smile crossed his face. "I'd like your eyes to stay blue as well. They're quite lovely. More of a gray, though."

"Of all the-the..." I could do nothing but sputter incoherently at that remark. That infuriating man just had to turn everything into...into something inappropriate.

Thankfully he grew more serious. "Let me train you, Bastila. You can be so much more."

I turned away from him, pacing across the room. At last I turned back. "Why are you doing this? Why 'train' me? What do you care as long as you get my Battle Meditation?"

"Because, whether you believe it or not, I'm not trying to imprison you or make you a slave to my will. I'm trying to free you."

"Yes, we've established that. Freeing me from the teachings of the Jedi."

"No, far more than that."

"Ah, let me guess. 'The Force shall set me free,' and all that other nonsense from the Sith Code."

"On the contrary. I'm setting you free of the Force."

I raised an eyebrow. "I don't follow."

"I want you to learn to overcome your weaknesses without the Force. Only when you've mastered yourself can you master the Force. Hence the neural collar."

"That is utter nonsense."

"No, it's not. The rest of the universe lives without Force sensitivity. They overcome obstacles without it just fine. If trillions of others can, so can you. You'll be stronger for it."

"Why do you care if I'm strong or not? You only want me for my Battle Meditation."

"No, Bastila. I want you for far more."

I bit my lip, my brow creased in concern. He was dead serious. He wanted me as a full member of the Sith. I had figured as much, but I had thought that I would be one Dark Jedi among many if I fell. Just another cog in his war machine. It seemed he was implying much more. And that worried me. Needless to say, I did not like his plans for me one bit.

He finally broke the silence that had fallen between us. "Bastila, I-"

The sudden swoosh of the door interrupted whatever more he had to say. Revan scowled as he turned to meet the intruder.

"Malak," he growled. "I trust you have a good reason for disturbing me?"

I turned to look at Revan's apprentice. Before I continue, Masters, I must point out that, contrary to all the rumors going around, Malak did not lose his jaw over Telos. Even then he still had his jaw. I do, however, know precisely how he lost it. I'll get to that much later.

Anyway, I turned to face Malak, who was staring right at me, not Revan. I found his gaze most unnerving.

"Forgive me, Master. I was told you wanted to see me in person," he said in a smooth voice, shifting his gaze to meet Revan's.

Revan narrowed his eyes. "You could have reported to the bridge and waited for me."

"I thought it best to report directly to you as soon as my shuttle docked."

Revan's frown deepened. "Very well, then. Come, join us."

Malak walked further into the room. "I see the rumors are true. You have a new pet Jedi."

"She's none of your concern, Malak. As you are so eager to see me, let's get to business."

"In front of her?"

"She's not going anywhere. Who's she going to tell?" Despite Revan's biting remark, I listened intently. He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. "I asked you here because I have been receiving disturbing reports from Iridonia." Malak bristled. Revan continued. "Your fleet has abandoned its post. Is this true?"

"Master, I thought only to press our advantage into the core worlds. I left a contingent behind to guard Iridonia. We've already taken several key planets."

"Idiot!" Revan spat. "What happens if the Republic takes Iridonia from behind? They still have a fleet in the outer rim. We'll be pinned between Iridonia and the core worlds, you fool."

"But Master, we have the momentum-"

"No, _I_ have the momentum. I do not need both your fleet and mine to attack the core."

I could see Malak's eyes smoldering with hate, his jaw tense. His face was flushed red with embarrassment. And I think he was embarrassed that I was there to see it. His frequent glances in my direction only confirmed my suspicion.

"Now," Revan continued. "I want your fleet to withdraw to Iridonia."

"Can't we simply produce more ships and send them there as we push forward?"

"No, idiot. What good is producing more ships when we don't have enough personnel to man them?"

"But Revan-"

"Enough!" Malak's calling Revan by his name clearly was the last straw in the argument. Malak wisely bowed his head in silence. "You will retreat back to Iridonia. And while you're at it, you can deal with the locals."

"The locals?"

"Yes, that was the other disturbing report I've received. The inhabitants are either not surrendering their spaceports, or they are retaking the ones we formerly held. All thanks to your little 'contingent.' Could you have possibly left any fewer troops there?"

"I thought-"

"No, please, don't answer that. Just get out."

Malak bowed and turned to leave.

"And Malak," Revan said, "try not to have a repeat of Telos this time?"

Malak stormed out with a glower, leaving Revan and I alone once more. Revan just stood there peering holes through the door, a brooding anger settling over him. I honestly didn't know what to do or say. I certainly didn't want that anger directed toward me. So I kept quiet and waited for him to remember I was still there.

Revan finally snapped out of his dark thoughts. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath.

Still staring at the door, he spoke louder. "We're done for the day."

He didn't have to ask me twice to leave.


	7. A Glimpse in the Mirror

**CHAPTER 6 – A Glimpse in the Mirror**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

We dined again that evening. An eerie silence lay between us. This time Revan neither studied me nor gave me one of his sly smiles. He was completely absorbed in his thoughts, staring down at his own plate, eating mechanically.

Halfway through our meal, he finally raised his head and spoke. "I would like to finish that conversation we were having earlier."

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," he said with a laugh. He took a deep breath. "I presume you've noticed the tension between Alek and I?"

"Alek?" I asked. "I thought he was 'Darth Malak' now."

"Well, sometimes I still call him by his old name, when others aren't looking. If I'm feeling especially cheeky I'll call him 'Squint.' He hates it when I call him that." He gave me a mischievous grin.

"Squint?"

"Yes, his surname's too long for anyone to pronounce. I've been his friend for years and even I can't come close to getting it right."

"Ah."

"Anyway, I'm sure you know that Alek and I used to be close friends."

"But not anymore."

"Not of late, no. He's become...how do I put this? Ambitious? Too much for his own good."

"You poor dear. Whatever will you do with him?"

"Mock me all you want. The truth is, I would rather he and I had remained friends. I made him my apprentice because of our old friendship. Unfortunately, our old friendship no longer seems to mean anything to him. He has become increasingly hostile toward me. Now, mind you, he hasn't openly challenged me yet. He prefers to poison my troops behind my back or disobey my orders like a coward, under the guise of 'taking the initiative.' I'm sure you know what he did to Telos?"

I nodded. "Yes, but wasn't that at your order?"

"No. Contrary to whatever rumors are circulating right now, Telos was all him. I would have preferred he had left the planet intact. It had vital resources."

"Resources?" I cried. "What about the people?"

He sighed. "Look. One can't fight a war without resorting to seeing people as numbers in a report. I'd never be able to make the hard decisions if I got too close to those numbers. I do regret Telos, but if things were different and I were required to bombard a planet to achieve a strategic advantage... I'd do it without a second thought."

I was aghast at his heartlessness. "So as long as the deaths aren't senseless, it's acceptable in your mind to just...just kill millions in one swipe?"

"Yes," he said. He looked me directly in the eye without so much as blinking. "I know it sounds cold, but in the long run winning a war quickly and decisively saves more lives. Especially those of my own forces. I have a responsibility to protect them. I did it with Malachor to end the Mandalorian Wars, and I'd do it again if it ended this one."

"And how exactly does butchering millions of civilians on Telos protect your own forces or win the war more quickly?"

"Again, that was all Malak." He heaved a heavy sigh. "Bastila, contrary to your opinion of me, I am not a complete monster. I don't take pleasure in butchering civilians. I do care. Telos was a senseless slaughter. It served no purpose. If people are to die it should be for a good reason."

"Yes, a good reason," I huffed sarcastically. "Like taking over the galaxy for your own personal gain."

"We've discussed this already. All I can do is assure you that there is more than my own personal gain at stake. Believe it or not, there are far worse threats in the galaxy than I. The Republic must be made strong to meet them."

"Well I _don't_ believe it."

"Believe what you want. Right now, Malak is jeopardizing everything. I want to end this war quickly so that the Republic can heal its wounds. It must be ready..." He trailed off.

He was still being cryptic. Yet, he seemed sincere in his belief that the Republic must be strengthened. Which, of course, raised many questions in my mind. What had he seen in the Unknown Regions? Was there some threat out there that could be worse than Darth Revan taking over the galaxy? Was this the same threat that the Jedi Council had warned about at the start of the Mandalorian Wars? Or had Revan gone mad while traveling the Unknown Regions, paranoid that his new Empire would be wrested away by imaginary enemies? I would have asked him, but at last he spoke again.

"Malak has lost sight of our purpose. He would destroy the Republic rather than build it into an Empire. I fear it's only a matter of time before he openly betrays me."

That last comment made me think it was the latter case of my inner speculations—that Revan was simply paranoid. "Way of the Sith," I perked, sarcasm dripping in my voice. "The apprentice always betrays the Master. You honestly didn't think you would escape the inevitable cycle of betrayal, did you?"

He shook his head. "You make it sound so depressing. I assure you it's quite a noble thing. I personally consider betrayal one of the most important functions of a Sith apprentice. So much so that I actually made Alek promise to put me out of my misery if I ever became so weak. In all honesty, I would rather die than drive my Empire to the ground out of weakness."

"Somehow I find it hard to believe that you would actually _want _to lose your power—your very life—when the time comes."

"But that is exactly what I'm trying to say. The truth is, it is difficult, once power is gained, to willingly relinquish it. It is human nature to cling to it. The Way of the Sith ensures that a ruler does not hold onto power past his time. A weak and foolish ruler will destroy the Empire. A strong, wise, and just ruler will only build it up. It is better for everyone that a ruler be strong in mind and spirit. Betrayal should not be petty backstabbing, but rather a noble duty to preserve the Empire. The apprentice seeks to prove the Master is weak, while the Master must prove himself strong. Together they force one another to grow stronger, to adapt. It is a beautiful, but deadly, dance. I wouldn't have it any other way."

I rolled my eyes. "Only _you_ could romanticize a Sith apprentice viciously stabbing his Master to death."

"Oh, but it is romantic. Especially if it's with a dirty fork at the hand of a lovely brunette." He shot me a wink.

I ignored his wink. "And just what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, just letting you know my new preferred way to go. I used to want to go out with a bang. Maybe a lightsaber impalement. But a dirty fork is more amusing, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yes, but you also said 'brunette'..."

"Ah, that brings me to my next point. Malak's impending betrayal must be dealt with. Especially since he is most definitely not a brunette."

"Brunette or not, you said it yourself. It is Malak's 'duty' to betray you. I'm not quite sure what the problem is."

"Indeed, it is his duty to betray me. If I am weak. But it is also my duty as both a Master and the Dark Lord of the Sith, since I must prove I am still strong, to put my apprentice in his place when he blatantly defies me. Preferably six feet under."

"Then why haven't you?" I asked, taking a bite of my meal.

"I wanted to wait until I had found a suitable replacement. You."

I stopped chewing, staring at him like a nerf in a speeder's headlights.

Having my full attention, Revan continued. "I will confess that at first I was only interested in your Battle Meditation. It was my intent, upon capturing you, to personally break you through torture." My face paled at the thought. "As you can see, I changed my mind. And it wasn't simply because your manner amused me, nor because you're a stunningly beautiful brunette. There are plenty of other amusing and lovely Jedi whom I've shamelessly broken. No, it was because I saw something else in you."

I finally swallowed the bite I had been chewing, and took a sip of water, trying to stall from having to answer him. I figured he would not like my answer.

He pressed me further. "Bastila, I saw in you a kindred spirit."

I nearly spewed the water I was sipping. Miraculously, I managed to swallow it instead. "A kindred spirit? You must be joking. We are nothing alike."

He sighed. "What I mean is, you are stubborn. Defiant, even. You stand by your convictions to the bitter end. You feel you already have all the answers, and you don't let anyone else dissuade you. When we spoke for the first time, your words had an air of superiority. You are proud, Bastila. Oh, you may say you are just another humble Jedi, but I know better. You're like me, when I was your age."

"No! I trust in the wisdom of the Masters! Unlike yourself. I listened to their judgment not to fight the Mandalorians."

"Yes, and I'm sure those same wise Masters call you 'headstrong' to your face." I hung my head at that. "Look at me," he said. I slowly looked up. "There is no shame in that. You have every right to carry yourself with pride. You have already mastered a skill that would take Master Vandar 800 years to come close to mastering, if he ever did."

"No, I won't listen to your lies." I closed my eyes tightly to try and blot out the words that would poison my mind.

"But it's the truth. And I'm willing to bet that the real reason you never followed me to war against the Mandalorians is that you wanted approval from the Masters."

"That's not true," I said.

"But it is. Their convictions are your convictions, because you crave their praise...their attention. You want them to someday elevate you to the rank of Master, so you, too, can have the power and respect they command. But let me tell you, Bastila, you don't need validation from them, nor their silly ranks bestowed upon you. You are special with or without their approval."

"No, I'm not special."

"Don't give me the Jedi hardline. Look at me."

I opened my eyes again. Unshed tears formed at the corners of my eyes. He had hit a nerve. Every word he said about my motives was right. I wanted to run away, to be anywhere else. I longed for the peaceful plains of Dantooine more than ever.

Revan rose from his chair and knelt beside me. He cupped my face in his hands, his thumb wiping an unwanted tear that had fallen down my cheek. I leaned back in my chair to get away from him, but there was no escape. His strong hands turned my head to look at him.

"I was once like you, Bastila. I, too, once craved their approval. But then one day I realized that I didn't need it. I chose to follow the path I believed to be right, and forged my own destiny."

I could feel his hands loosen their grip on my face, as he moved to take my hands in his. "The Jedi are holding you back. You can be so much more without them. They fear you—your power. That's why they berate you. They are trying to make you humble so you don't turn against them. Tell me, why is it that you aren't a knight yet?"

The only answer I could muster was to cry. His words, and the truth behind them, stung.

He, being the sensitive Sith Lord that he was, continued to twist the knife. "You don't have to be held back. I can teach you to break free of them."

"Monster," I sniffed. "The only person I need to break free of is _you_."

His hands squeezed mine more tightly. "If that were true, you would not be dining with me every evening. You would not be holding conversations with me. You wouldn't let me rub your shoulders."

"Just what exactly are you insinuating?"

"Bastila, I've seen how stubborn you are. For Force's sake, you literally make my guards drag you to see me. If you truly wanted to, you could make this process so much harder. You could go on a hunger strike. You could refuse to speak to me whatsoever. You could have resisted attacking me with your lightsaber today."

I closed my eyes in shame, more tears spilling down my face.

"You want to be here. You don't struggle against me because you're curious. Oh, you make a show of resisting. But I know what you really feel deep inside. Because you and I are more alike than you know. You want to taste passion, power...the dark side."

I tore my hands from his and pushed him away. "No!" His hands caught my arms and I struggled. His fingers clenched tighter, squeezing a welt I had received earlier that day from his training saber.

"Ow!" I cried. Revan looked surprised, as he hadn't been squeezing quite thathard. Then realization struck him, and he loosened his grip.

"Oh Force, I'm sorry. I completely forgot." He got up and offered his hand. "Come on. Let's tend to those burns."

"What do you care?" I sniffed through my tears.

"A lot, actually. Or else you'd be shackled to an interrogation table right now."

I grudgingly got up, but refused his hand. He awkwardly pulled his hand back to his side. "This way," he said. At first I thought he'd take me to the medic. He surprised me by opening the other door in the room. I stepped through.

It was the door to his private chambers. I froze. The sight of a disheveled bed was the only thing I could focus on.

Revan stopped and turned around. "Now, now. It's a little early in our relationship for what you're thinking about."

I blushed furiously as he walked into the 'fresher. "One would think you'd at least have a cleaning droid take care of that mess," I remarked, trying to cover my embarrassment.

His head popped back out of the 'fresher. "Oh, no. I have far too many enemies. I don't need a cleaning droid to plant something that could kill me."

"You are absolutely paranoid."

"Better paranoid than dead. In fact, that's why I always invite someone to dinner. That way I know if the food's been poisoned." My face paled.

Revan rolled his eyes. "Of all the people I could have picked to be my new apprentice, I had to pick the one with no sense of humor?" He clucked his tongue. "Now get in here."

I obediently followed him into the 'fresher, feeling sick to my stomach. Masters, I felt so conflicted, so trapped. His words from before burned into my soul like acid, slowly dissolving my defenses. I struggled with anger. Anger towards Revan, towards myself for my weakness, and—worst of all—towards the ones who had raised me from childhood. The ones who had never done me harm. The ones who had always guided me with their words of wisdom. Forgive me, Masters. I dried my tears on my sleeve as I stepped inside, the Jedi Code churning in my mind.

Revan had already ripped open a med pack from his medicine cabinet. "Take off your shirt," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh please, I've already seen it."

It finally hit me what he might have meant. "You didn't! You-you stripped me! You-you pervert!"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I didn't. My medic tended to you yesterday, not me. I was referring to when you were first brought here. Strapped to my interrogation table. Ring a bell?"

Mollified, I obediently took my outer robe off. I still didn't want to remove my undershirt. I felt there was no need to, as it was sleeveless and the burns were only on my arms this time. Thankfully, this seemed good enough for Revan.

"Have a seat," he said, patting his hand on the counter. I obeyed. He applied a bit of kolto to a bandage. "You know, I'm not the womanizing pervert you paint me to be."

"Oh?"

"Yes, most times, anyway." He gave me a wink.

I rolled my eyes as he applied the bandage to my shoulder. He opened another bandage and applied kolto to that as well. He repeated this process for each welt and burn, one by one.

"Will you at least consider my offer?" he asked as he applied another bandage.

"No. You can strap me to your interrogation table for all I care."

"Are you so sure about that? I don't think you'd last a week before you pledged yourself to me."

"Then why don't you? Surely it'd be faster than having long monologues with me. Or do you expect me to pledge myself to you just to make the incessant talking stop?"

He smiled, undeterred, as he unwrapped another bandage. "No, I only wish to reason with you. Torturing you may be more expedient in the short term, but I'd prefer you didn't absolutely hate me."

"Isn't that how it's supposed to be, though?"

He leaned away and straightened, crossing his arms. "Maybe. But I personally feel that it is more weakness itself that a Sith should hate. An apprentice should only hate his Master if his Master becomes weak. Otherwise, there should be trust and respect between them."

"Trust? Won't that leave your backside exposed?"

"On the contrary. I'm not saying the Master should let his guard down. That would be a sign of weakness. However, a Master and apprentice should have a common purpose that unites them, such that they can trust one another not to allow petty ambition to get in the way of fulfilling that purpose. Alek and I used to trust each other. But now his purpose is diverging from mine. He is trying to betray me at the worst of times. The war effort still hangs in the balance. The fool will destroy the Empire before it's fully built. He lacks vision. I need someone more level-headed. Like you."

"I'm not in the least interested," I said.

"You say that now, but I know I can build that same trust between us as Alek and I once shared. And when I do, you'll see things differently."

"Just what makes you think I would ever trust you in any way?"

"Because you're just like me, and I know how you tick." He finished applying the last bandage. "There! Good as new!"

"I'm _nothing_ like you."

"But you are," he said, shaking his head. "You are as headstrong as I was at your age. The Mandalorians made me see things differently. They pushed the right button to change my convictions about the Jedi. Eventually they even changed my convictions about mercy, weakness, and the like. My whole worldview was changed. I know I can change yours as well, if I can find the right button. And I _will _find the right button, Bastila, even if I have to push them all."

I swallowed hard. The truth is, I was afraid he was right. The more time I spent with him, the more he would slowly change me, pushing me over the edge as surely as the brutality of the Mandalorians had him.

"As I've said before, there is no offer you could make to turn me." My words lacked conviction, however. Everything he offered tempted me. I wondered how much longer I could resist.

"Well then," he said, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a smirk, "maybe I can sweeten the deal for you."

I raised my eyebrows in suspicion. "I'm scared to ask, but how so?"

He leaned forward almost seductively, placing both hands on either side of me on the counter. "Since I know by now you must be having a wild fantasies of a love-hate relationship with a handsome Sith Lord...Lover and apprentice. That's my final offer."

"Y-you're disgusting! I could never..." I trailed off in a sputter.

"Are you so sure? I mean, I am charming and debonair, aren't I?"

"Yes, and-I mean-no! No! I find you absolutely revolting!"

"But you just said 'yes.'"

"No, I meant to say, 'Yes, I'm sure.' Not, 'Yes, you're charming.' Don't try to twist things."

"So you're sure that I'm charming? I'm flattered."

Then I thought of a way to jab him back. I wouldn't let him goad me without a fight. "Wait. Just how exactly can the Dark Lord of the Sith have an...intimate...relationship with his apprentice if he can't trust said apprentice not to someday stab him to death with a dirty fork?"

His face leaned closer to mine, his smirk now his trademark lopsided grin. "What do you think neural collars and cuffs were invented for, sweetheart?"

"Ugh!" I shoved him away. Thankfully, he complied and let me go. I grabbed my robe and put it on in a hurry. I could only hope that he would end dinner early and let me go back to my cell. I couldn't stand to be in that infuriating man's presence a moment longer. I needed to meditate without him either trying to tempt me, giving me an endless monologue, or goading me into utter frustration.

I stormed out of the 'fresher, and out of his bedroom, with him on my heels. "Well, Bastila, I know I've given you much to think about," he said as we came out of his room. I stopped uncertainly, not knowing if I was allowed to leave or expected to go back to the dining table. "If you like, you may go back to your cell. I'll have the guards bring the rest of your dinner to you." It was as though he could read my mind. I silently took his offer and strode out to meet the guards.

"Goodnight," he called out behind me.

**.:.**

I spent that night in my cell, unable to fall asleep. I kept reciting the Code, trying to fight off the despair that threatened to consume me. I could feel myself slipping away. Revan's words ate at me. Was I not resisting harder out of curiosity? Had the Jedi really held me back? These questions and more plagued me. Worst of all was the futility I felt in trying to escape. My body wracked with sobs. Not only could I not escape this prison, but I could not escape my own emotions. No amount of reciting the Code could allay the guilt I felt. I was giving in. Slowly. It was like slipping down a rocky hill, and trying to stop your descent by digging your heel into the ground, only to find the rocks beneath giving way and carrying you with them. I knew I couldn't resist for much longer. The power he offered was so tempting. But I knew of no way out. What if he was right? What if I really was as arrogant as he was before he went to war? What if I were walking the same path, and not even knowing it?

Then it hit me. If arrogance was a weakness for me, surely it was a weakness for Revan also? Never had I met anyone so arrogant in my life. Arrogant enough to give me a fork to tuck under my pillow. And under my pillow was exactly where I kept it.

A plan formed in my mind as I seized a glimmer of hope. It was only a glimmer, mind you. But I was determined nonetheless to get out of Revan's grasp. Even if I did have to stab him with a dirty fork to do it.


	8. The Cruel Tutelage of Darth Revan

**CHAPTER 7 – The Cruel Tutelage of Darth Revan**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

My escape depended on one thing—deception. Revan would have to believe that I was slowly falling to the dark side. The key word being _slowly_. I could not simply say yes to his proposal. No, that would be too obvious. The slightest doubt of my sincerity, and the neural collar would never come off. Rather, he had to believe that I was gradually beginning to see things differently. In all truth, I think I was. I know now that I didn't come through that experience entirely unscathed. In fact, I think the only thing that kept me from falling to the dark side was my stubborn hope in escape. It was the sole thought that consumed me, keeping me from dwelling on the words with which Revan poisoned me each day.

Did his words still have their intended effect? I confess they did. I was becoming more and more angry with him each day, more and more frustrated. His "training" bordered on sheer torture. It seemed almost impossible to please him, and he was quick to let me know of his displeasure. All of it in his mind was to make me stronger. The most disturbing part of it all was that his training still did not consist of Sith teachings. At least, so he claimed. He told me he learned many of his training techniques from a former Jedi Master. I can see now why you exiled Kreia after Revan's fall to the dark side. Her teachings reek of Sith mysticism. Needless to say, each training session not only left me feeling drained, but also contaminated.

Perhaps I should go into detail from the beginning. The very next morning after our talk, I started our training session by silently taking up my lightsaber. Revan raised an eyebrow in surprise, but said nothing.

He made the first move. Our sabers collided, his driving me back almost against the wall. I dove to the right and backed out of range to give me space once more. Warily I circled him, hoping in vain for a misstep on his part. He merely stood still in his stance, training saber at the ready, his haughty smirk daring me to charge him. I knew my mistake both this morning and on the _Maelstrom_ had been to wait for him to strike first. He had the advantage in his offensive. But what was my advantage? I obviously did well defensively, but only as long as I did not grow tired. No, I would have to take the initiative, as Master Zhar had told me many times. Unfortunately, going on the offensive would put me out of my comfort zone. It would not play to my strengths. But what better environment to learn a new strategy than in a duel with Darth Revan where he would not harm me? If I could just somehow put him on the defensive, I knew I could win. I decided this round that I would charge first, but withdraw before he could turn my offensive against me. Perhaps I could slowly wear him down as he had me.

I met his challenging smirk and charged. I could see his eyes widen in momentary shock as he raised his blade to block mine. His defense was truly an offense. His blocks to my blows more resembled strikes. It was as though he would twist any offensive on my part to his advantage, putting me back on the defensive. Again and again I tried to find an opening but failed miserably each time. My movements felt so sluggish with the collar. I tried to withdraw per my strategy, but he would give me no quarter to back away. Rather he steered me toward the wall. I once again attempted to dodge to the side to get out of the trap, but he anticipated the move. His saber swept down to block my escape, and struck my forearm clean through. I dropped my lightsaber with a yelp, clenching my singed arm. He held his saber to my throat, silently claiming his victory.

I stared defiantly into his haughty gaze, breathing heavily. I was utterly frustrated. I didn't stand a chance against Revan with a neural collar around my neck, and he knew it. His smug smirk made my blood boil.

At last Revan lowered his training saber. "Pick it up. Let's go again."

"No," I said.

"Let me guess. You want to go back to sitting stubbornly on the floor while I strike you? And here I thought we were finally making progress."

"I didn't say that. I just don't see the point. You're always going to win as long as I have this neural collar around my neck."

"We went over this already. I'm not using the Force. We're even."

"Well, I beg to differ. You can't honestly expect me to believe we're evenly matched when this collar makes me so sluggish."

"Then I guess you'll have to learn how to overcome it. Most fights aren't fair. You'll just have to figure out how to make things unfair for me, now won't you?"

I huffed indignantly.

He continued. "Use your wits, Bastila. You have a wonderful mind. Quit fixating on your weaknesses and overcome them with your strengths."

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" I asked, my frustration showing clearly on my face. "You're deliberately not giving me anything to work with!"

"You want something to work with? All right. Let me give you some advice. When you move forward to strike you tend to lean into it and over-commit. It would be better to balance yourself over your center of gravity, at least for the defensive form you practice."

I knit my brow, analyzing his "advice." Did I really do that? Then I realized I didn't care if I did or not. Even if my escape plan did involve gaining his trust, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of following any of his advice. I wanted to figure out how to best him on my own. And hopefully take his head off in the process. Granted, in the back of my mind I knew this was not likely to be the means to my escape. The way things were going so far, I had no reason to believe I would ever best him, nor that he would actually let me. He would use the Force like a coward before letting me take his head off. But something deep inside me wanted to prove myself to him. In the end, my pride only made things harder on myself.

I picked up my lightsaber and we fought again. And I lost again. And again. Revan made it a point to either knock me down to the floor, or to leave a painful burn for each failure. Finally Revan had his saber at my throat again. I threw down mine in a huff.

"Pick it up," he said.

"Haven't you had enough amusement for one day?" I asked, crossing my arms stubbornly.

"I'm afraid I don't find your shunning my advice the least bit amusing, Bastila."

"Even if I take your advice, that won't be enough for me to win."

"Perhaps not, but it's a start, now isn't it? Better than continuing to do what you've been doing, and getting nowhere."

I sighed heavily. I had quite a few burns on my arms and legs now. I was too exhausted to continue. I just wanted the day to be over. Revan waited to no avail for me to take up my lightsaber.

At last, he spoke. "Well, I'll concede that you've had enough for one day. But tomorrow will be no different from today if you don't take my advice. What do you have to lose, Bastila? Absolutely nothing. And yet you have everything to gain. Think about it."

**.:.**

The remainder of that day was spent similarly to the prior few days I had been aboard Revan's flagship. Except after our training session I was allowed a sonic shower in the prison block's locker room, though under heavy guard. Fortunately these guards were female. At least Revan had a little bit of class tucked away somewhere in his perverted mind. The guards also took me to Revan's medic to have my burns mended. Once returned to my cell, I was fed the usual food synthesizer slop. The guards fetched me again for dinner with Revan. We ate in silence that evening, he being rudely preoccupied with a data pad as he ate. I was actually grateful for his rude manner, as I wasn't up to any further debates or arguments. In fact, I am surprised he even invited me to dinner at all that evening, or for many such evenings we would have. Perhaps the novelty of his new plaything had worn off.

I did think about taking his advice. He was right. I was getting nowhere, except for a trip to the medic to heal my burns. I couldn't think of any way to beat him with the collar in place. Besides, I needed to take my escape plan seriously, even if I had to cede ground to him and lower my pride. The next morning I was determined to have him show me what it was he meant by "balancing myself."

He more than obliged.

"Why Bastila, are you actually asking me to teach you something?" he asked, his face glowing with triumph over this new ground he'd gained from me. He probably thought he had me wrapped around his little finger. Of course, that look only told me that I had succeeded in deceiving him, in making him think he was slowly winning me to his side. Looking back, I'm not exactly sure who had who wrapped around whose finger. Perhaps we both had a hold on each other. But I planned to exploit whatever advantage he gave me just as surely as he exploited what I gave him.

"I suppose it's either learn something from you or go back to losing," I said, bitterly gritting my teeth. The humble pie Revan was force-feeding me certainly didn't agree with my digestive tract.

"Well I hate to break it to you, but it will take a lot more than following that little piece of advice before you can come close to besting me."

"I figured as much."

"So does that mean you're committing yourself to a more long-term endeavor? Because that's what it will take."

"What choice do I have? I'm a prisoner. I can sit on the floor while you strike me, fight you while you strike me, or learn from you and hope to strike you back."

"Well said." His grin couldn't have been wider. Then it turned to a thoughtful frown. "I didn't expect you to come around so soon. What made you change your mind so quickly?"

He was suspicious. I had sounded overly eager. Quickly, I backtracked. "I still have no intention of joining you. I am simply making the best of a bad situation."

"Good for you."

"And if you try to slip in any Sith teachings," I said, shoving my finger into his chest to make my point clear, "I will simply ignore them."

"Oh, don't worry, Bastila. I don't feel the need to teach you more advanced things just yet."

"More advanced?" I sputtered. I could not believe his condescending tone. "Why-what...Do you think me a child?"

"No, no. I think you a Jedi. One who has ignored the true potential of the Force."

"Well I beg to differ."

"As you wish. But when you're ready, I have no doubt you'll ask me to train you in the Sith ways, just as you now ask me to train you in the Jedi ways. I am a patient man. I can wait until you're ready."

"I-I...I would never-"

He cut off my sputtering. "We'll stick to lightsaber training until you're ready for something more. Now drop into your basic stance." I could do nothing but stare at him dumbly. "Unless of course you would like to continue standing there sputtering nonsense at me."

I chose the former, obediently dropping into the basic stance all Jedi learn in their first form.

"What about my lightsaber?" I asked. He hadn't given it to me yet, but held onto his own.

"You won't be needing it for this exercise. We'll be working on your balance first."

And so his cruel tutelage began. Oh yes! He was a cruel master. He made me hold that stance. I was not unused to holding a stance for long periods of time. This was a normal Jedi training exercise. But the length of time he expected was unbearable. Whenever my muscles relaxed or my posture shifted, he swiped his training saber at my leg. Then he said he was restarting the clock on how long I had to hold it. Only I'm not sure how long he originally intended for me to hold it. He omitted that small fact. It is my suspicion that he didn't really have a clock running, other than the time he had set aside to spend training me that morning.

Finally, after four hours of holding my stance and having Revan burn me for the slightest shift, I could bear it no longer, and sat up almost imperceptibly. His leg swept through mine, knocking me to the floor hard.

"You schutta!" I yelled. I still can't believe that word left my lips.

I would have expected him to smirk for having gotten me to lose my temper, but instead he merely spoke in an even tone. "You're the one who asked me to train you. Now get back up."

"What's the point? Who cares if I can hold this stance for hours or days?"

"_I_ care. And that should be all that matters."

"Well _I_ don't. And I take it back. I don't want you to 'train' me."

"Would you rather go back to losing? Or to sitting on the floor?"

"Maybe I would."

He knelt down in front of me. "You know, if you were anyone else, I'd gut you for questioning my training methods." He licked his lips, his eyes narrowing. "You think you know better than me, don't you?"

I ground my teeth together. And that was answer enough for him. He rose and walked away several feet before throwing his training saber to me, leaving himself unarmed.

"Prove it," he said. He crossed his arms, a haughty smirk stretching from ear to ear, as though I were so pathetic that I could not so much as land a blow on him if he were unarmed.

That was enough to send me over the edge once more. The next thing I remember is waking up in the medical bay. Needless to say, I never questioned Revan's training methods again.


	9. Dejarik

**CHAPTER 8 – Dejarik**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

Our days began to settle into a predictable rhythm. I was never fed a proper breakfast. Or, at least, it was too late for what anyone would call "breakfast" by the time our morning training session was over. Rather, the usual lunch of synthesizer slop was provided in my cell after my post-training sonic shower. It was more of a brunch than a lunch. One day in training, as he reproached me to focus, I complained that my blood sugar was too low, trying to make a case for him to feed me what the rest of the galaxy regarded as the most important meal of the day.

"I don't believe in breakfast," he said. "I'd much rather combine my breakfast and lunch into one substantial meal."

Rather than stating why, he took a swipe at me with his training saber. "There. Your focus is back, yes?"

I can only guess his reasons. Perhaps it was due to his busy schedule, or simply because he thought a cup of morning caffa was a proper substitute for food. Whatever his reasons, Revan liked to shove every little philosophy he had on life down my throat, and make my metabolism suffer along with his. It wasn't unusual for me to sneak a bit of dinner under my robes for the next day's breakfast whenever I thought he wasn't looking.

It appears, however, that he did take note. One evening, he actually handed me a bread roll on my way out of his quarters. "Here. For your midnight snacks," he said with a wink.

Meanwhile, Revan continued to push the edge of the core worlds, trying to break through the Republic's defense. Every few days, at some of the oddest hours, I would be unexpectedly taken from my cell to the bridge. Revan, his full armor and mask donned, would always stand silently at the viewport, watching the battle. The guards would always push me to stand beside him. Often, Revan would put his arm around my shoulder and move me to stand even closer to the viewport, as though giving me a front-row seat. He would rest his hands on my shoulders, making sure I stayed put, and would force my head to look forward if I tried to look away. It was always with great guilt that I watched these battles rage. I know I have nothing to feel guilty for, Masters, but I felt so helpless. I wanted so much to aid the Republic, and it was because I had let myself be captured that they could not repel Revan's armada.

Revan never said anything to me at these times. Never once did he demand I use my Battle Meditation. Of course, there usually was no need. He was doing quite fine crushing the Republic under his boot without my help. That was the very point he was trying to make. Every win I could feel his smile beneath his mask as he squeezed my shoulders, rubbing in his victory.

And yet, it seemed on some days his patience was wearing thin. Not every fight resulted in the Republic's retreat. Not that the Republic ever claimed a tactical victory, but I think Revan was annoyed that he was not breaking their lines as quickly as he'd planned. I didn't need to feel the Force to feel his impatience. I could hear his sharp intake of breath behind his mask before he'd order his fleet to disengage. I, on the other hand, couldn't help but smile at the Republic's success, however meager it was. But Revan was quick to punish me for it. Rather than the gentle squeeze of victory he'd usually give my shoulders, I'd receive the grip of an iron vice. Then he'd shove me toward the guards to be escorted back to my cell.

Despite anything he had ever said about not needing my abilities to win this war, his annoyance with me said otherwise. I didn't know how much time I had left before he lost patience altogether and strapped me to an interrogation table. Which is why I made it a point to cede ground to him faster. I had to escape before the thermal detonator that was Darth Revan blew.

Our training sessions only became more and more intense. For days he did nothing but make me hold the basic stance as he read reports on his data pad. Despite his occupation, he always noticed even the slightest relaxation in my stance, a fact which he proved with a burning reminder from his training saber. To keep me from overworking the same muscle groups, he would personally expedite the healing process for my muscles with the Force after each session. He would never give me a day off like any sane Jedi Master would. In fact, he refused to move on from this exercise until I held it perfectly for long enough. I must confess, it was an excellent, albeit cruel, focusing exercise.

I didn't reach his expected time until three weeks into my training.

"Go ahead, relax," he said softly, with an almost proud tone in his voice. Gratefully I rose out of the stance I'd been holding perfectly for well over three hours. My robes were drenched in sweat, and leg muscles I had no idea I had were shaking. "Come, follow me." He gestured toward the door. I followed him, too exhausted to ask where we were going.

He led me back to his quarters. Not just the anteroom where we dined, but to his actual private quarters. And into the 'fresher, of all places. I halted at the doorway to the 'fresher, staring in confusion as he turned on a faucet to his bathtub.

"I thought you might like a hot water bath," he said, answering my unasked question. "I regret, however, that this is the only 'fresher on the ship with hot water. Everything else is sonic. But I promise to give you your privacy."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a pervert?"

"No, I mean, why are you doing this?"

"Consider this a reward—a carrot, if you will—for a job well done. I think you've had enough sticks. Wouldn't you agree?"

I just stood there dumbly as he made toward the 'fresher door to leave.

He stopped at the doorway, smirking down at me. "Well, are you going to get in, or did you want me to join you?"

The color rose to my cheeks, and I quickly stepped into the 'fresher. "No! I-I'm quite fine alone, thank you."

"Very well," he chuckled. "A fresh change of clothes will be in my bedroom. When you're ready, come out for lunch. Enjoy."

Thankfully, he left, the door sliding shut behind him. I undressed out of my sweat-soaked robes. As much as I wanted to be stubborn, the thought of a warm bath to soothe my aching muscles sounded very inviting. I was too tired to struggle with him, and it certainly didn't gain me any ground. Of course, I certainly gained more ground for my escape plan by giving him ground. I dipped myself in as soon as the tub was full. Revan had even put soapy bubbles in it for me. Compared to the sonic showers, it was heavenly. I must have lazed in the tub for nearly an hour.

When the water finally got too cold—which was all too soon—I rose, wrapping a towel around me. I spent time in front of the mirror to pat-dry and braid my hair, before cautiously opening the door to make sure Revan was not in his bedroom. Fortunately, I had the room to myself. I spotted the change of robes in the middle of his king-sized bed. I couldn't help but think it was yet another innuendo from Revan. After all, he could have chosen his chair, or the small desk in the corner. It was quite awkward to reach across his bed for the clothes. And, as usual, the sheets were a tangled mess. One would think that a military leader would have a sense of cleanliness, as all troops are expected to have. Apparently not Revan.

I dressed quickly, trying to spend as little time as possible in his bedroom. When I stepped outside, what greeted me was a nice, albeit simple, lunch set at our usual dining table. The candle was replaced with a vase of flowers this time. I would not be eating synthesizer slop that day. Again, Revan was sending a strong message that every meal could be this good if I only joined him. Interestingly enough, Revan was nowhere to be found. He probably had his usual duty of taking over the galaxy to attend to. At first I gingerly sat at the table and waited for him to appear. When he failed to do that, I decided that he intended for me to eat alone, which I did. It was what to do afterward that confused me. I wasn't sure if I was expected to wait for his return.

I finally rose after several minutes. The temptation to explore his quarters was too much. I hoped to find some key to accelerating my escape plans. I wandered to his desk. It was littered with data pads. No doubt various reports and task orders. I thought about opening the drawers, but a sixth sense stopped me. What if he had a camera watching me?

I wisely stepped away, and headed toward the couch. I did not wish to jeopardize my escape plan, however sketchy it was at the time. I had to be trusted, even alone in his quarters. I sat down, my eyes gazing out the viewport. When they'd had enough of the swirling stars of hyperspace, my eyes shifted to the dejarik board in front of the couch. It was more of a glorified caffa table. A cold, half-full mug lay next to a data pad on it. The data pad still glowed with the morning news. Curiously, I skimmed through the headlines. Apparently Revan had spent his morning caffa time gloating over the doom-and-gloom reports of the Republic's latest defeats. Disgusted, I tossed the data pad to the side. That left me once again with nothing to do. I moved the stale mug of caffa to the ground beside the board, and activated the classic game. The pieces lit up, their monstrous forms growling. I moved a piece, and then another, playing against myself out of boredom.

"Do you play?"

I nearly jumped. I never even heard Revan walk up behind me. It was a good thing after all that I hadn't been riffling through his desk.

"You know, it's not very polite to sneak up on someone like that."

"It only counts as sneaking up if you're worried you'll get caught." He shot me an almost knowing glance as he rounded the couch to sit beside me.

"Well I wasn't doing anything wrong, as I'm sure your cameras have confirmed."

"Cameras? I don't need cameras to monitor you, Bastila."

That remark so disturbed me I could do nothing but gape at him.

"Don't look so surprised. I am a Sith Lord, after all."

"But how exactly...?"

"A Force bond. I'm sure you've heard how proficient I was at Force bonding even as a Padawan."

"You-you mean to say that I-I'm Force-bonded to _you_?" The thought of my mind being connected to that monster horrified me.

"Only a little. Just enough to know where you are if I wish to probe, and to get the gist of what you're up to."

"When? I mean, when did you...?"

"I did it while you were unconscious. Just after I captured you. Don't worry. I've respected your privacy. I have no interest in your being too close to my mind either. It goes two ways, you know. I certainly don't want my apprentice in my head. Makes betrayal too easy."

I nodded, but still failed to conceal my discomfort. Did he know of my plan to escape? Was my entire plan in jeopardy? I could only hope not.

"You know, I'd bet you could become quite proficient at creating Force bonds yourself, given your talent with Battle Meditation."

"Are you offering to teach me?"

"Someday I will. But that collar has to come off first, now doesn't it?"

"Just why would I want to learn such a thing? So I can spy on people?"

"No, no. You can use it for many things. You could enhance your Battle Mediation. For example, by going beyond mere suggestion to forcing your will."

"Mind control? Sorry, not interested."

"All right. How about a more Jedi-like application? You could heal another's mind and body. Or extract a foreign language from another's mind. The possibilities are only limited by your imagination."

I nodded thoughtfully. Even if I hadn't been trying to earn his trust, I think I would have asked him to teach me eventually. After all, he had learned the skill as a Jedi. Perhaps the only reason I had not been taught it myself was that so much of my training had been focused on Battle Meditation. There wasn't much time for anything else once my ability was discovered.

He interrupted my thoughts. "Would you like to play a game?"

"Haven't played enough with me already for one day?" I couldn't help but jab at him.

"No, no. Dejarik."

"I doubt I am the level of opponent you are accustomed to playing against."

"I wouldn't let that intimidate you. You will improve with practice. It's a good means of learning strategy. Something Alek was never interested in. In fact,"—he hit the reset button on the board, the pieces returning to their starting positions—"I would like to make a wager with you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sorry, I'm short of credits at the moment. I'm sure you can guess why."

"No, we won't be wagering credits. We'll be wagering on the status of your neural collar."

"Oh?" He had my full attention now.

"If you can win a single game against me, I will tell you how to remove it. You may try as many times as you like until you win."

That sounded too easy. Surely I could eventually win a game against him. "What's the catch? I'm sure you get something if I lose."

"Correct. For each game I will have my own terms. It will be up to you each time if you wish to accept them."

"And what might the terms for the first game be?"

"If I win, your 'living quarters' will be, shall we say, downgraded."

The thought of an abandoned rancor pit crossed my mind. "I'm scared to ask."

"Don't worry, nothing too miserable. Just smaller. And draftier. But to win great rewards one must take risks. I am not even asking for you to take a significant risk. In fact, I'll only make it for one night. Then you can go back to your old cell."

I paused a moment to think it over. "Why bet at all, if you simply want to teach me strategy?"

"Because I want the stakes to be real. Real battles have high stakes and pressures that can cloud one's judgment. Consider this a safe training ground for the real thing."

It was just a game of dejarik. I had everything to gain. I could always refuse a game if the terms were unseemly. I decided it was worth the risk of being in a rancor pit for a night.

Without a word, I made my first move. Hours later, I found myself cramped into a tight ball in a force cage. True to his word, it was rather drafty.

But the experience made me think. Throughout our game (which had lasted well through the quick dinner Revan had had brought to the couch), Revan had cornered me multiple times, but would not claim his victory, watching me squirm as a mouse in a cat's paws. Each time, he would ask me what line of thought had led me there. Then he asked what I could have done to avoid the trap I'd fallen into. He wanted me to evaluate my strategy, my tactics. He would ask what my strategy was, and would tell me a better one based on what he considered my strengths and weaknesses.

It wasn't the game I was thinking about, however. It was strategy. What was my strategy for escaping? I had a few tactics lined up, a dirty fork being one of them. I had thought my strategy was to gain his trust. But wasn't that really more of a tactic? He had spent some time explaining the difference between strategy and tactics, the tactics being the means to the end, and the strategy being the overall plan to get to the end. I realized my plan was not concrete enough. I had two tools—two tactics—at my disposal, but no context in which I would use them. I was waiting for the right opportunity to come along to stab him, but I didn't even know what that opportunity looked like. Not to mention, I didn't even know if I could make it far on his ship after I stabbed him. No, I needed another variable to the equation. I needed the path to the hanger or to the escape pods clear of enemies. I needed the ship distracted, and I knew just the thing. If I played my dejarik pieces right, I might not even have to stab Revan himself. Just anyone else who got in my way.

And so my strategy for defeating Revan at his own game was born.


	10. One Little Victory

**CHAPTER 9 – One Little Victory**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The days wore on. Revan's push into the core worlds halted. I could tell because we were no longer traveling through hyperspace to the next system of conquest, and also because I was no longer being brought to the bridge. The respite Revan gave to the Republic was purely tactical. He was avoiding stretching himself out too far. That much I could gather.

In the meantime, that left us to our usual routine of morning training, sonic shower, synthesizer slop for lunch, boredom in my cell, dinner, and dejarik. Training advanced from holding a stance to doing forms over and over. He would often do those forms with me, filling in for the imaginary enemy I fought.

I did eventually learn there was method to his madness. He felt that having me hold balanced stances, and eventually moving on to repeating forms over and over with perfect balance, would ingrain a more balanced stance in my natural fighting. I used to know these things, but I suppose that somewhere along the way they were forgotten, lost in the shuffle of Battle Meditation training. My saber technique had suffered as the focus shifted to my more unique ability. I don't blame you, Masters. My Battle Mediation was much more needed, and still is. Of course, I am a Sentinel, not a Guardian; it is to be expected that my saber skills would be less refined than other skills I had learned. Nevertheless, Revan could not abide any perceived imbalance in my overall Jedi training, which is why he had taken it upon himself to polish those things that had rusted or that I had never learned in the first place.

He tested my progress regularly by interrupting our training routine with sparring. I was beginning to hold my ground. However, I was still not quite good enough to best him. I still believed the collar was in the way, but he would have none of it.

Revan continued to give me sticks and carrots. A hot water bath or so much as a real lunch that didn't involve synthesizer slop was rare, only given when he felt I had exceeded his impossible expectations. He rarely gave verbal compliments, as he preferred to keep an even tone no matter how well or poorly I did. The only indication that I had done something right was the lack of a bump on the head or burn to my arm. His rewards and punishments were always done calmly and with thoughtful precision. It was almost mechanical, like a droid following its programming.

His punishments were not limited to training saber burns or knocking me to the floor. He would often give me a more intense exercise as punishment for bad technique, or even deprive me of water breaks, however small the infringement. Granted, he would only punish me for those things he had already verbally corrected once. In this, at least, he displayed a small sense of fairness.

Fortunately, most days he did not make me suffer physically. No, he preferred emotional trauma. And our dejarik games presented the perfect opportunity. As I got better and better at dejarik, he would raise the stakes of each game. I didn't think I could possibly have much to wager, but he always managed to come up with the most creative bets. And they were all becoming increasingly humiliating.

"'There is no emotion.' Sounds more like a lie to me." Revan moved his piece across the dejarik board. "Your move," he said.

"A lie? How so?" I pursed my lips, trying to see through the web Revan was spinning around my pieces.

"Oh please, have you never felt anything? I think you have."

"Yes, but a Jedi should learn control over their emotions, as you well know." I came to a decision, and moved another piece.

"Well I posit that emotion is impossible to control. The best one can do is suppress it, as you have done." His piece effortlessly captured mine. And he had fallen right into my little trap.

"Suppress? What exactly do you mean by that?" I moved my next piece, pinning one of his and checking another. "Check."

"I only mean to say that deep down, you really do feel emotion, but you lie to yourself and pretend it isn't there. It's just waiting for the right trigger to come out. Checkmate in four moves."

I leaned intently over the board, trying to see the trap he arrogantly hinted at. "If you're trying to rattle me, it won't work." I countered his move, moving a piece to tighten my defenses. I smiled sweetly at him.

"And yet you moved exactly where I wanted you to. The right trigger, see?" He moved another piece, sliding past where my other had been. Just as I had predicted.

I quickly closed the gap. "Yes, I do. Check!" I declared, a bit too smugly.

He grinned, almost...evilly. With a dramatic wave of his hand, he moved the piece I had thought I had left pinned, but in my haste to check him had now left free to move. "Checkmate."

I gaped at him in disbelief. I was so sure this time I would have him.

"Well? We had a deal. It's too late to get out of it."

"Fine!" I lifted my shirt over my head and threw it at him. "Schutta," I seethed.

He lowered the shirt from his face with a chuckle. "Now, now. Don't be such a sore loser. Besides, you're only proving my point about emotions." His eyes scanned my body from head to toe, bringing a blush to my cheeks.

I tried to gather what dignity I had left. "Yes, well, I will admit I have difficulty controlling them. But I will learn in time."

"Mmm hmmm," he growled, his eyes lingering in certain unseemly places. "You have such sexy legs."

"Ugh! Just give me my shirt back!"

"Aw. Don't want to wager your undergarments for the next game?"

"No, thank you. That's enough strip dejarik for one evening. Now, please, give me my shirt back."

I made to snatch it, but he held it away from me, leaning back into the couch arm rest. I stretched forward in a last effort to grab it. That was my mistake, for in my imbalance I slipped, falling onto him.

"Oh, Bastila! I had no idea you wanted me so badly."

"Give it back!" I said, trying to push myself off him.

His snaked his free arm around me while still holding the shirt away from me. I pushed my hands against his chest to get away, but he held me firmly, his face nuzzling into my neck. "But that wouldn't be any fun. Besides, are you sure you don't want to wager a night with me? Once you go Sith Lord, you'll never go back," he growled.

"Oh, I bet you think you're just so irresistible, don't you? Well, I'm not in the least bit interested."

Thankfully, he released me. I shuffled away to my side of the couch as he sat up. "Well, what do you propose we wager next? You're getting too good to not raise the stakes. If you hadn't made that mistake just now, you would have won. Next time, pay attention to all of the board, not just the pieces I'm moving."

I nodded my head thoughtfully. Not just to contemplate his advice toward bettering my dejarik skills, but to think of something else I could wager. Something preferably not so humiliating. Something that might even get me in good graces with him. Deep down, I knew it was time to raise the stakes for my escape plan, to give him a taste of the promise of everything he wanted.

"Battle Meditation," I said.

"Pardon?"

"I'll wager my Battle Meditation. You may have full use of it in your next battle."

"And just why would I accept such a wager when you will eventually give it to me anyway?"

"Because you'll get it much sooner?"

"Not necessarily. The next battle won't be for quite some time."

"Why?"

He sighed, almost debating whether he should tell me. "Because I am waiting for reinforcements. It may take a while. That endless supply of ships doesn't come out of nothing."

I raised an eyebrow, my curiosity piqued. "Yes, where do you get all those ships from?"

"Indeed, where do they come from?" he mocked. He clearly had no interest in answering my question. "Tell me, why are you offering your Battle Meditation now? Does this mean you've seriously considered my offer to become my apprentice? In which case, why wager at all?"

I had to choose my words carefully. Fortunately, they had been well-rehearsed in my mind for quite some time. "I am not accepting your offer. But if you win this next game, I promise to follow through on my end of the bet. Are these stakes not high enough for you?"

He nodded his head. "You would risk betraying your Republic for a game of dejarik? Is getting the collar off that important to you?"

"Either way, it will come off, yes?"

"Oh no. If I win, that collar will only come off for the battle, and will be returned to your neck as soon as it is over. The only way it is coming off permanently is either if you win this next game, or agree to become my apprentice."

"I see."

"So, again, I ask, why would you risk betrayal of the Republic to get the collar off? You will be branded a traitor once you help me. You might as well join me."

"Because I know I won't lose. Not this time."

"Are you sure this is worth it? I will hold you to your word. And if you break your word, there will be...unpleasant...repercussions."

I closed my eyes and heaved a sigh. I knew no matter how this game turned out, I would have the collar off for the next battle. That was all I needed. I opened my eyes once more. "I understand. It is worth the risk. I know you won't accept a wager of any less value at this point."

With a silent nod, he reset the board's pieces to their starting positions, and made his first move.

Unlike our series of five-minute "strip dejarik" blitz games—where I had lost an article of clothing after each game—this game lasted well into the late hours of the night. Revan was surprisingly gracious in allowing me such a span of time to contemplate my moves. In this, I am almost certain that he wanted to see me win. He felt he would get my Battle Meditation one way or another. No, for this game I could feel emanating from him a sense of pride he took in training me. My failures became his failures. My successes became his successes. Granted, I also think he had a more base motivation. He got to stare at me wearing nothing but my undergarments for hours. I often caught his gaze shifting from the board to other places, and he did nothing to hide his smirk. I, on the other hand, struggled to suppress a blush and concentrate on the game. After all, I did not want to give him any satisfaction. I would take my humiliation like a true Jedi—humble and emotionless.

At last, I had him cornered. He had finally stopped leering at me in favor of concentrating intently on the board. "Checkmate in four moves," I said, goading him as he had me. For purely strategic purposes, I assure you, Masters.

His forehead furrowed in deep contemplation. "Don't think too hard, Revan. You might hurt yourself."

He clucked his tongue in admonition. "Now, now. Don't get too cocky. Otherwise you might end up a maniacal Sith Lord like me." He shot me a wink, and moved a piece, threatening one of mine.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" I moved my piece, closing my trap. He had panicked. He had a chink in his armor after all. No matter how he moved now, there was no way out.

His eyebrows shot up with the realization that there was no sane move he could make that would not leave him defenseless. "Well done, my dear Bastila. I wasn't sure you could pull it off."

"Do you surrender?"

"Indeed. Your victory is complete. I suppose you'll want to get dressed." He leaned back into the arm rest, running his eyes over my body with a grin. He tossed my shirt back to me. I caught in clumsily, and pulled it over my head. Even in the act of dressing I noted that he garnered satisfaction, as though he were watching a reverse strip tease. I rose and gathered the rest of my clothes, hoping to end this humiliation as quickly as possible.

"There," I said as I pulled on my last boot. "Now if you're done leering at me, would you please kindly remove my collar?"

"Remove it? Why would I do such a thing?" He folded his arms, a smug smirk spreading across his face.

I was incredulous. "But-but that was the terms of our agreement! I-"

"No, on the contrary. I said I'd tell you how to remove it. I didn't say I'd remove it myself."

I clenched my fists with indignation. "And just how exactly do I remove it, then?"

He inhaled deeply, stretching out the moment. His next words were exhaled slowly. "With patience."

"Patience? Patience! I have been everything if not patient! I have put up with your fun and games. I have borne your humiliations. I have listened to all you have taught me. And yet here you break your word as you expect me to faithfully pledge my allegiance to a faithless monster!"

He rose from the couch and stormed toward me. "Never accuse me of breaking my word," he seethed, his face mere inches from my face, his hot breath melding into mine. "Not ever. I meant what I said. I will tell you how to remove it. And if you are willing to bear with me a while longer, you will learn something that could one day save your life."

He turned away from me. "Go back to your cell. I'll tell you in the morning."

His words struck a blow to my anger. Apparently, he was very sincere. And, as I was just beginning to realize, a man of his word—for better or worse. If there could be anything good said about Darth Revan, it would be that. His word was his bond. If he said he would burn an entire planet, it would be done. If he said he would spare it, it would surely be spared. It was one of the few constants I could rely on in all the time I was his prisoner. Strangely enough, rather than simply gaining his trust, he was beginning to gain mine. In a very sick, twisted sort of way. The impression of trust he left with me certainly confused me. I will admit part of me felt safe with him. I knew he would not harm me, for he would keep his word. I also felt flattered that he would offer me such a high position in his Empire, and mean it. Then, of course, there was the other part of me—the sensible Jedi part—that felt disgusted at the thought of trusting a Sith Lord for anything. But it was not merely the thought of becoming partial to a Sith Lord that bothered me. No, it was the warning in my heart that if I were to betray his trust, I would forfeit all his promises to me. If I broke my word, he would break his, and any perceived contract between us would be dissolved. Fear rose up in me at the thought of what he might do to me if my escape plan failed.


	11. Will Power

**CHAPTER 10 – Will Power**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The next morning, I was escorted to the training room as usual. This time, however, the guards did not enter with me, as if under new orders. They merely opened the door, and I stepped through alone, the door sliding closed with a swoosh. Puzzled, I looked to find Revan.

He was sitting on the floor, in deep mediation. Wearing a neural restraining collar.

Oh, if only I had had my fork with me, Masters! But I think he knew my sentiments.

"Here's your perfect opportunity, Bastila."

His eyes shot open, awakening fully from his meditation. And just like that, the collar dropped off his neck.

"Pity. Too slow," he snidely commented.

"How did you do that?" I asked, my eyes wide in bewilderment. I had never before seen the like.

"Will power."

"Will power?"

"Yes." He gave me his lopsided grin.

"Wait. Is that really a neural collar? How do I know it's not a kath hound collar?" I crossed my arms with skepticism.

"Feel free to inspect it yourself," he said, tossing it toward me.

I caught it in my hands, and turned it over. It was indeed a neural collar, just like the one I wore.

"This...is impossible," I marveled. It even had what I had determined on my own collar to be the anti-tampering device that caused so much pain whenever I tried to break free.

He clucked his tongue. "I would have thought your Jedi Masters would have taught you how to overcome a simple neural collar. But perhaps my own Master was exceptional in her teachings."

"Simple? How can this neural collar be simple when it has an anti-tampering device?"

"It's only complicated if you don't like pain."

"And you do?"

"No, but I can bear it if I must. The Jedi have become far too soft. Any bit of pain that breaks their serenity, and they give up like cowards."

"The Jedi are not soft—wait, did you just call me a coward?"

"Oh, no. Of course not. You simply have been misguided. Something that we'll be working today to correct."

"I need no correction from the likes of you."

"Then feel free to stay in that collar."

I huffed in exasperation. Once again he had left me feeling cornered with no choice. Well, I suppose I had the choice to live with the collar, but that left me with no hope of escape. Yet I knew at the same time that listening to his teachings would lead me down a dark path.

"Well," Revan spoke at last, "are you going to stand there or do you wish to sit down and learn something?" He patted the floor in front of him.

"Let me guess. You wish to teach me how to use anger to overcome pain."

"Very smart girl. But it doesn't have to be anger. It can be anything that fuels you. It can be determination. A goal you have. Whatever emotion that moves you. Sit down."

I warily moved toward him and mirrored his meditative position on the floor.

Then Revan said the unexpected. "Did you know that I was once a captive of the Mandalorians?"

I raised an eyebrow. "No, but what does that have to do with-?"

He raised his hand to interrupt. "It was on Dxun. I was very hands-on back then. If I couldn't gain the foresight I needed from the Force, I would go find it myself. That's how desperately deadlocked the fighting was on that hell hole. So I would join recon missions incognito, without my mask. Even my own soldiers on these missions didn't know who I was. I didn't want word getting out that the Revanchist was personally scouting Mandalorian encampments. That decision proved to be wisdom—albeit my scouting did not. My team was caught one night in the jungle.

"We were outnumbered, and thought it best to surrender. They disarmed us. Unfortunately, I hadn't disguised myself as a soldier, but as an average Jedi. They took away my lightsaber and slapped a neural collar on me. Much like the one you are wearing. They were no fools. They understood that a collar without an anti-tampering device is child's play to break out of. Anyway, they took us at blaster-point to their encampment, and threw us into a pit.

"But they didn't stop there. They took special pleasure in taking us individually out of the pit and tying us up to a tree. They would spend hours making sport of us before throwing us back into the pit. I won't offend your senses in listing the various forms of torture they made us endure. Suffice it to say that they were experts at stealing away our hope. Whenever we were near death, they would treat us with kolto to keep us alive. The Force only knows how much kolto they wasted on their sport over the ensuing weeks."

He paused, leaving me time to digest the secret he had told me. Finally, I managed a question. "How did you manage to escape? Did Alek find you?"

"How could he have? How could anyone have? Their encampment was far into the jungle, well into enemy territory. Any search party would have been suicidal to wander about that deep into the jungle. Nor could the Republic ground troops mount an offensive when they could barely hold their ground. No, it was up to us to free ourselves.

"Whenever I was given a respite in the pit, I worked on breaking out of the collar rather than sleeping. Sometimes I'm not sure which hurt more—the torture the Mandalorians administered, or the pain from the collar. But that pain drove me to anger and hatred. And that was what kept me going. Oh, believe me, I tried to be a serene Jedi. But how quickly all serenity and peace left me while in the hands of the merciless. Believe me when I tell you that there is a mindless hatred that destroys for the sake of destroying, and then there is a righteous indignation that destroys because it is just to do so. I will stand by my hatred for Mandalorian brutality any day."

"So you finally broke free?" I asked, still trying to process it all.

"Yes. After several weeks. I then quietly used the Force to break the chains off my comrades who were still in the pit. I dazed the guards above us, and we climbed out of the pit and quietly made our way into the jungle. Unfortunately..." He took a deep, almost pained, breath. "Unfortunately, we could not free one of our members. He was still tied to a tree being tortured. We couldn't risk waking the entire camp. It's a decision I still regret, but I know deep down I had no choice if I was to rescue anyone at all."

I stared at him with my mouth hanging ajar. His look of regret shocked me. Here was the true toll of war. I could not imagine the impossible decisions he had to make as a leader. For a rare moment in my time with him, I could see the full weight of the responsibility he had borne—and was still bearing.

"Did-did you ever find out what happened to your comrade?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I presume he's dead. A month later, the Republic pushed forward, and the lines shifted far enough to where we could raid the encampment. But he was nowhere to be found. Mandalorians often do grow tired of torturing the same soldier over and over. They are always looking for fresh blood."

We sat in silence for a while. I could see now how war had driven him to the dark side. What might have started as "righteous indignation" had finally festered into the very destructive hatred he supposedly abhorred. But there was no use in pointing out that turning on your own Republic was just as bad as anything Malak did. He was as self-righteous as the next Sith. It wouldn't surprise me if even Malak had his list of justified excuses for his war crimes against the Republic.

At last, I shook myself from contemplation and broke the silence. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I want you to understand what it's going to take to get that collar off. I'm afraid you haven't been desperate enough to overcome the pain, or else you would have freed yourself by now."

I stared in horror as he rose from the floor, Force lightning crackling at his fingertips in a demonstration of what was to come.

"I'll give you two minutes to break free before I give you a jolt. I highly suggest you stop gaping at me and start meditating."

**.:.**

Searing pain in my skin. Endless aching in my bones. Numberless tears. Begging for respite. Sobbing desperately that I couldn't break free.

But I could. And at last, after what felt like hours, I did.

There, on my hands and knees, tears streaming down my red face, I watched that hated collar clank to the floor. All at once, I felt relief as I once again felt the Force flow through me. I both sobbed and laughed at the same time. Forgive me, Masters, but those hours had me wracked with all sorts of emotions—all but the one we call peace. But then, we hold that peace is not really an emotion. It's something I'm still learning, Masters.

I felt a hand on my shoulder as Revan knelt down beside me. "Well done, Bastila," he said, almost reverently. The pride in his voice was unmistakable.

He lifted me up, allowing me to lean on him for support. He walked me to the door of the training room and opened it with the wave of his hand. The guards outside stepped in, taking over as my crutch.

But before they could take me to the medic, Revan spoke.

"Bastila, you don't have to go back to your cell."

I stared at him in silent shock, not certain if I had heard him correctly or if the leftover static electricity in my brain was causing hallucinations.

"You've freed yourself from your collar. You can still free yourself from your cell. Just say the word, and you'll never have to go back there."

Masters, I honestly didn't know how to respond. I knew escaping from my cell was unlikely, even without the collar. Oh, I'm sure I would have made it past my cell, but never to an escape pod or the hangar. Revan knew this well. There were too many Dark Jedi between me and freedom. And as long as we were in the depths of hyperspace, there would be no leaving the ship. It would tear an escape pod apart to try.

"I-I don't know what to say," I said, trying to determine if all this meant that he thought I was turning to the dark side—or worse, had already turned. After the wave of emotions I had endured over the prior few hours, I honestly didn't know if I already had fallen or not.

"When the time comes, I know you'll say the right thing. Just think on it for now. And rest."

And later in my cell, after being treated by the medic, I did think on it. With the Force flowing through me, I gathered what serenity I could. I realized that despite my succumbing to emotions to get the collar off, I had finally succeeded in manipulating Revan into fully believing I was hopelessly falling to the dark side. I had him right where I wanted him. The next major offensive, I would offer my service to him. It was time to escape—or die trying.

Of course there was a third option I had not dared to contemplate. It was what would happen if I failed to either escape or die in the attempt. I was soon enough to become intimately familiar with that third option.


	12. Yes

**CHAPTER 11 – Yes**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The next few days I was left entirely to my cell. I'm not sure why, but I suspect Revan was letting me stew in my thoughts. Or maybe he was trying to get me to come to him, to come out of my cell of my own volition, rather than him constantly pursuing me. No matter the reason, I knew he was very much preoccupied with planning his next offensive against the Republic. Now that I had the collar off, I could feel the warning in the Force—a sense of urgency. The lull in his advancement on the core worlds would not last much longer.

We dropped from hyperspace two days after our last conversation. I could sense his amassed fleet outside the ship, like orbs of energy circling about. And some planet he had taken. The life forms there shone more as a torch with its batteries running low on charge. Such was the oppression of the Sith on the planet's citizens. For several days the fleet did not move from this location.

I could now sense Revan's impatience, even from a distance. Indeed, he had made a very small Force bond with me, and I could at last sense it with the collar removed. While I could not outright read his mind, I could sense some emotion from him. Or rather, it felt like a tension in the back of my mind. And it was not my own tension, but that of a foreign presence. It was Revan's. And he tensed more with each day as he prepared to plunge into what would likely be the final leg of his campaign. With that growing tension—that apprehension—came his growing impatience, directed squarely towards me. He was waiting for a decision. I could almost feel him staring daggers into me, even though he was nowhere near my cell. He needed my Battle Meditation more than he let on. He would not advance his fleet until he had it. No matter the size of his fleet, he knew it was a gamble to invade the core of the Republic's strength without a clear advantage. Rather than draw out the war longer to safely create a more advantageous position for himself, he wanted to give the Republic one swift blow, with me as his hammer.

I decided to play his little game of chicken. I wanted to stretch out his apprehension, his tension. That way, when I at last released the tension with my feigned gift of loyalty, the taste of a victory hard-won might be sweet in his mouth, and believable. It was a dangerous game to play. I knew I could not stretch the tension for too long, or else risk incurring his wrath. And his wrath was something I always sensed once the collar was removed. It wasn't necessarily directed at any one person, but it lay buried deep within him at all times, waiting like a predator to devour anyone who incurred it. It was ever seeking its next victim, and I did not wish that next victim to be me.

So the day came when I felt I dare not wait any longer. I ceased my pacing in my cell, and slammed my fist against the door in a knock to get the guards' attention.

The door slid open, five heavily armed guards silently pointing their guns at me. (Yes, Revan had increased the number of guards since my collar had been removed. There were even more guards at the entrance to the prison block.)

"Take me to Revan," I said. "I wish to speak with him."

Surprisingly, the guards acquiesced without so much as a word, as though they were already under orders to do as I asked. I suppose I shouldn't have been so surprised. I fell in step beside them.

At last, they brought me to an imposing door, where one guard pressed a button on the door's comm. "My lord, my apologies for disturbing you. Your—your _prisoner_—wishes to see you."

A strained pause followed. The guard pressed the button once more. "Sir, shall we escort her back to her cell?"

Another long pause, and at last, a response. "Send her in."

The door slid open at the will of the Dark Lord behind it. The guards nudged me forward, leaving me to meet what very well could have been my doom. My apprehension rose. I knew everything was at stake. Just knowing that we shared even the smallest of bonds was enough to give me trepidation. What if he detected what I was up to? What if he saw my fear not as stemming from inner conflict or hesitancy, but from my plan to escape? I struggled to keep my heart rate under control. Yet I dared not turn to the Jedi Code for help. Surely he would have seen right through me if I appeared too serene.

The sight that first met me as I stepped inside was that of a large table that hosted a 3D projection of what I instantly recognized to be the Corellian system. A vast number of simulated ships floated ethereally on the display. The red ships I presumed were Revan's fleet, and the blue the Republic's. Hyperlane entrances were marked out. Revan stood, mask and all, brooding over the pieces as intently as he would any dejarik board.

But he was not alone in the war room. None other than Darth Malak sat near him. Various other officers were seated at the table.

Revan looked up as the door closed behind me. "Ah, Bastila. I'm so glad you could join us. Ladies and gentlemen," he said, speaking to the officers seated at the table, "I'd like for you to meet our secret weapon." All eyes turned toward me.

Revan had quite a way of putting me on the spot. His mask looked back at me knowingly, or at least so I imagined. I'm certain he was smirking at his victory. There would be very little room to wiggle out of this one. Any thoughts of turning back were vanquished then. Unless, of course, I wished to humiliate him in front of his officers and apprentice. I could only imagine the suffering he would have inflicted had I done so. I wisely held my tongue, and swallowed the pride that deeply wanted to put him in his place for his arrogance. As if my mere asking to see him were somehow the equivalent of bowing before him and pledging my loyalty. On the bright side, he certainly made the task of feigning loyalty so much easier than I had imagined. I truly did dread any act he might make me do to demonstrate my loyalty. Would he make me publicly bow and kiss his boots? Grovel? Read sappy poetry vowing my fealty? Or make a holovid of all of the above to be spread across the Republic?

But I wasn't out of the proverbial Kashyyyk trees yet. Darth Malak was none too pleased with this development.

"My lord," he said, sitting up straight in his chair, "this is your secret weapon? A girl? Can her one ability truly give us the advantage we need? To have so much depend upon her..."

"She is more than adequate for the task."

"Yes, but she's practically a child at war. How can her ability be enough?"

"It was enough to claim your fleet at Onderon, or have you forgotten?"

Malak, shamed to silence, clamped his jaw shut—though his eyes stared in fury at me.

One of the admirals spoke up. "My lord, I do not pretend to understand the Force or all that mysticism of the Jedi and Sith, but Lord Malak raises a fair point. I do not think it wise to-"

His sentence was cut off by the sound of his own gurgling. The admiral's hands desperately clung to his throat. Revan's outstretched fist only tightened further, as though he were not so much as imagining squeezing the man's neck, but rather squeezing out every last bit of hope for air the man had.

"Do you understand the Force now, Admiral Karath?" Revan said, at last loosening his fist. Admiral Karath collapsed forward on the table, sucking in air in heavy breaths.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Revan continued, beginning to pace around the table, "I realize that it is dangerous to extend ourselves so far. However, the Republic is presently unbalanced. We must take advantage. There will never be a better time to strike. If we allow them to regain their balance, they may likely drive us back out of the core, and our victory at Iridonia and its surrounding systems will have been for nothing. We would have to start over and retake everything. Much time and resources would have been wasted.

"But if we press forward now, we have everything to gain, and little to lose. Iridonia is now well-fortified. We have multiple secured routes by which to retreat should our battle at Corellia go ill. Even if we lose, Corellia would have been dealt a blow to their shipyards. The Republic cannot afford to have her production of ships even slightly affected. But just imagine if we win. Imagine the surrounding systems that would surrender without a fight. Imagine not only the blow to the Republic's morale, but to the very heart of their fleet. In mere months we could very well be at Coruscant's doorstep. It is a risk worth taking to end this war expediently."

Revan was a convincing orator. He presented facts, both risks and rewards. At the same time, he somehow managed to make the risks so worth taking. The very cadence of his words made the heart quicken and the blood pulse through one's veins. I remember well his speeches rallying against the Mandalorians. In this regard, his style hadn't changed much.

His little speech was certainly enough to get another admiral to chip in more positively. "My lord, I heartily agree," he said. "Even without any additional advantage, now is the time to press forward. Any edge that we add to it can only make our victory more certain."

"Excellent!" Revan said. "We're all agreed. Now, we have yet to receive a confirmation from our recce flights regarding the location of the Republic's reserves. Once they return, we will meet again to discuss contingencies. In the meantime, if you'll excuse me, I would like to privately brief our secret weapon on the battle ahead."

All officers rose and saluted as one. As they filed out, Malak gave me a glare I would not soon forget. Karath merely scratched his throat and hardly gave me a second glance. The door slid shut behind them, leaving me alone with Revan. He casually threw his mask off and sat down at the table that hosted the holodisplay. His smirk couldn't have been wider.

I had just about had it with holding my tongue at that point. "What in the Corellian hells makes you think I came here to offer my allegiance?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Well you'd better have a good reason to interrupt my planning if you didn't."

To that I had no answer.

Revan's smirk apparently could get wider. "I see. So then, where does that leave us?"

"I...I've been thinking."

"So I can see."

"You're going to make this difficult, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"Do you expect me to grovel or something?"

"Heavens, no!"

"What then?"

"A simple, 'yes,' will suffice."

"That's it? You're not going to have me prove my loyalty by killing somebody?"

He shook his head. "You've watched too many Exar Kun holovids. No, no such barbarism is required. Although," he said, raising an eyebrow, "I suppose after this battle is over you'll have so much of the Republic's blood on your hands that you'll practically be baptized in the dark side."

My mouth went dry at the imagery he painted.

Revan motioned to the chair on his left. "Come, sit down."

I silently obeyed.

He leaned toward me intently. "Why so much hesitancy?" he asked.

"I...I just..."

"Surely by now you can see I'm not some uncivilized mass murderer?"

"No, you're just a civilized one."

"Such is the nature of war. But I assure you everything is done with purpose. I'm not asking you to go on a killing spree with me. I'm asking you to help me put an end to this war. You have nothing to fear from the dark side. It won't turn you into a lunatic. As you can tell by now, I am perfectly sane. The dark side is simply power—power with which we can bring order and strength to the galaxy. It was power that freed you from that collar, and it is power that will free you from the restraints of the Jedi."

"What if that's not what I want?"

"Then what do you want? Do you wish to live in a monastery all your life? Meditating until you reach some mystical state of enlightenment and magically transcend into a puff of energy, never to be remembered? I offer you action. Accomplishment. Your name will forever be in the annals of history."

"As the name of a butcher?"

"No, as the name of a victor. As the name of someone who changes things for the better. The Republic is stagnant. It is collapsing under its own corruption. You have a chance to be a driving force for change."

I buried my head in my hands. If I had thought to simply feign allegiance, I was very mistaken. He was so persuasive that I almost forgot what I had come there to do. My conflict ran deeper than simply trying to hide the fact that I was still contemplating escape. The truth is, I was also contemplating joining him for real. Forgive me my confusion, Masters. The truth is, I very nearly did join him in my heart.

I felt him take my hands in his. I looked up to see him staring intently into my eyes. "Bastila," he said, "ask me anything, and I will gladly give it to you. Unto half my empire. Join me, and all I have and ever will have will be as much yours as it is mine."

"Yes," I blurted. Whether I had feigned that one simple word or meant it in my heart was something I would continually berate myself over every day for the next year. But at the time, either way, I could not help but say that word. It was the right moment, the right timing. And it was enough to convince Revan—even me—of my desire to join him.

"Very well," he said. He gave my hands a squeeze and released them. "Now, we have much to go over. Shall we?"

**.:.**

An hour later, Revan was walking me out of his war room. He had gone over every last detail, even every last doubt he had about all the logistics that would have to come together to make the battle a success. Amazingly enough, he even asked my input on a few things.

The guards that had escorted me earlier were still waiting outside the room when we exited.

"Am I to go back to my cell?" I asked.

"Certainly not. Come, your new quarters aren't far from here. In fact, they're very close to my own. Perhaps not your own flagship, but they'll do until we can get one for you."

Apparently there were going to be quite a few perks to joining him that originally weren't advertised in his brochure. I admit I was having difficulty hardening my resolve to escape.

Revan offered his arm. I took it, and he led me down the corridor, the guards silently falling into step behind us. Strangely enough, Revan never donned his mask. I soon realized, however, that the floor was clear of anyone but the guards and us. Apparently this section of the ship was for Revan's uses, to be cleared at his convenience.

We at last came to a door that was but thirty feet down the corridor from the entrance to his own quarters.

"Here we are," he said. He waved his hand and the door slid open.

I gingerly stepped inside. The room was more spacious and plush than anything I was used to in my own room at the Dantooine enclave.

"Do you find everything to your liking?" Revan asked, stepping in behind me.

"Yes, I suppose," I said, still stunned by the lavishness of it all.

"Well, I could upgrade your quarters, but that would involve sharing, now wouldn't it? Unless, of course, you've been seriously considering my other offer?" He smiled seductively.

"An upgrade of quarters won't be necessary," I said quickly.

"Oh well, perhaps after you've thought about it longer. If you change your mind, you know where my quarters are to find me." He shot me the most infuriating wink. I crossed my arms and frowned. "Well, until then, I'll leave you to it. If you require anything, the guards will be outside your door. I do suggest you rest while you can. I plan on resuming our training regimen tomorrow morning. Not to mention we'll have our day filled with plenty of logistics and other work."

"Wait," I said. "If I'm not to be brought back to my cell, then why the guards?"

"They're for your protection."

"Protection? Protection from what? I can take care of myself. Perhaps if you'd kindly return my lightsaber..."

"I don't think you understand, Bastila. Your Battle Meditation is far too valuable to risk. Or did you think that Alek didn't notice that you are replacing him? Do you honestly think he won't try to get to you—either to harm you or turn you? What else is to keep him from infiltrating my ship with his own Dark Jedi and simply wresting you from under my grasp?"

"And how are simple guards with stun guns supposed to protect me from Dark Jedi?"

"These are a part of my honor guard. They are Force adepts themselves. They are hand-picked and hand-trained from men and women who have served under me from the beginning. They are the only ones who ever see my face. They are the only ones I trust. They are loyal only to me. I'm sorry. While you may consider it a nuisance, it is a necessary precaution as long as your Battle Meditation is needed. Even I don't dare go far on my own ship without my honor guard nearby."

"I see. And am I free to move about the ship then while under protection?"

"No," he said.

"I am still your prisoner, then."

"You didn't honestly think I'd trust you without any proof of your loyalty, did you?" He took a few strides to close the gap between us, and forcibly took my face into his hands, his eyes boring into mine. "Understand this, Bastila. If you fail me at Corellia, I'll make you wish you were dead."

His hands held me in a vice, and I stared at him wide-eyed. I finally managed to nod my head within his grip.

"Good," he said, releasing me. "I bid you goodnight."

After he left, I lay down on my plush bed in my new plush prison cell. So much for escape.


	13. Eve of Battle

**CHAPTER 12 – Eve of Battle**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

I had much to think of in my new cell. In particular, I had a decision to make. As I've mentioned before, Masters, my loyalties were beginning to waver. Perhaps Revan sensed, at least to some small degree, that a large part of me still held to my Jedi beliefs. But it was past time I acknowledged to myself what he already knew—that he had whittled them down, weakened them. I had to decide if I would reinforce them and attempt to escape, or if I would at last succumb to temptation.

It wasn't only power that tempted me. It was fear. It clutched at my heart, paralyzing me from doing anything other than what Revan wanted. I had seen (and felt) the pain he could inflict when he was relatively calm. I could only imagine what he would do to me if I betrayed him.

But then I thought about how things would be if I betrayed the Jedi. While Revan claimed I would be his new apprentice, I knew I would not have the leeway to betray Revan in the age-old traditions of the Sith. As Revan had made clear to me, my Battle Meditation was far too valuable. I would be "protected" indefinitely, unable to make any kind of move against him under the watchful eyes of his honor guard. No, Revan would lock me away in a vault first before he allowed me to freely move about. He would not risk harm to his prize. More importantly, I suspected he wanted to force my eventual betrayal to be done as an open challenge—something he could predict and control—rather than the cowardly backstabbing in which Malak engaged in the shadows where Revan could not pry.

The entire situation left a bitter taste in my mouth. I was nothing more than a tool. Oh, of course Revan made it as though he offered me the galaxy; but when it came down to it, I was only an object to be used. He did not truly see me as a person. At least, that was my perception. He wanted complete power over me, to possess me through and through, just like an object. He pushed my buttons like he would a remote control, manipulating me into doing his will. I would forever be his prisoner under maximum security. How long before I resented Revan's absolute control over me? Could I honestly live like this every day for the rest of my life?

The clear answer was no. I had a choice before me. I could either cower and let Revan have his way, or I could rise above my fear—and above my own deep-seated desires to taste the power Revan offered, however much a mirage that power was. I knew then that escape was next to impossible, given that I would forever be watched. Nevertheless, if I was going to end up strapped back onto Revan's interrogation table, I could at least give the Sith armada hell one last time.

So it was that by the time the next morning came, my resolve was finally set in stone, never to waver again. Unfortunately, I had spent so much time thinking my options over that I had gained little sleep. I was quite startled when early in the morning a splash of ice-cold water deluged my face.

I sat up with a jolt, sputtering water from my mouth. Revan stood over me with a bucket.

"What in the Corellian hells-" I said, still disoriented.

"I would have expected by now that you would not require my guards to wake you up and drag you to see me," he said coldly.

"So you decided to wake me yourself like this?"

"Well if you don't like it, try an setting an alarm."

"Well, I'd love to. But, wait. _I. Don't. __**Have**_**. **_One,_" I shouted. "How can you possibly expect me to wake up on time?"

"Easy. With a bucket of cold water. Next time, why don't you take some initiative and ask the guards for a chrono?"

I huffed in exasperation.

"Unless," Revan continued, "you actually want to wake up to me every morning. Though we certainly won't need a bucket of water to arrange for that." He gave me a sly smile.

I shot up from my bed, ignoring his remark. "Honestly, I can't please someone who wants me to read his mind. If you want something, then why don't you ask me?"

"Why sweetheart, I thought I was making it clear what my intentions are toward you." His sly smile grew into the most infuriating grin. "Oh, you mean the alarm! Yes, well, initiative doesn't require mind reading. It simply requires logical thought and a good guess. You know our routine by now. I warned you we'd be training. And since you are now my apprentice, I shouldn't have to have my guards invade your privacy every morning."

"No, you'd much rather do that yourself, wouldn't you?"

He set the bucket down. "Oh, you have no idea. But I'm afraid any further discussion of romance will have to wait. The recce flights have returned. I'm sorry, but we'll have to scrap our training for this morning. I've scheduled a staff meeting later today. I want to go over the reports with you beforehand."

"Can I at least clean up first?"

"You have ten minutes. When you're through, please see me in the war room."

**.:.**

Exactly ten and a half minutes later, I entered Revan's war room. The room was empty, save for Revan, who was gazing out the viewport.

"You're late," he said.

"By mere seconds."

"I'd rather you be early than late. My time is precious. Please treat it as such."

"Yes, _Master,_" I mockingly soothed.

He turned his head toward me and cocked an eyebrow. "Hmm, irreverence. I do like it when you're feisty." He moved toward me. "I understand this is all quite an adjustment. Don't worry. I am a patient man. In the meantime, if you ever mouth off like that to me in front of anyone, I'll personally throw you into a Rancor pit. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master," I said quietly, sounding sincere. I admit, this was a hard lesson in humility, Masters. To address the Dark Lord of the Sith as _Master_...My escape plan had a high price.

"Good. Have a seat," he said.

We sat down at the table, where he turned on the holodisplay of the Corellian system.

"I've only thus far told you our strategy for the actual battle at Corellia," Revan said. "If you recall from yesterday, our fleet will be jumping into this point here"—he pointed at a hyperspace exit point—"and assaulting the automated orbital defense stations. From there, we'll strike at the ship yard. Now that our scouts have confirmed the Republic fleet movements, I'd like to make a few modifications." He zoomed out on the display to show a map of the core systems. He moved a finger to point at one of these systems. "The 21st fleet has been located here." A blue marker appeared where he pointed, and his finger shifted to another nearby system. "The 18th is here."

"I would have thought they'd have more numbers on this side of Iridonia," I said.

"Ah, yes. Well that's our problem, now isn't it? Much of the Republic fleet is in the mid or outer rim, fighting there. We've cut them off from a major hyperspace route. They'll have to go around the long way through alternate routes if they want to reinforce the core, of course. We've been receiving reports that several fleets have been doing exactly that, even at the expense of giving up their holdings elsewhere." He pointed to several other locations, each lighting up with a blue marker. "Here they all are. They won't attack Iridonia directly. That's why I waited to reinforce it. I wanted to make sure it was an...unpleasant...target."

"Pardon my asking, and please don't take this the wrong way; but didn't Malak essentially suggest the same thing months ago? About reinforcing Iridonia with more ships and pressing forward? What is the differentiating factor in your plan?"

"Ah, good question. Do not fear. I do enjoy answering _intelligent_ questions, of which you abound. I'm also pleased to find you were paying attention. Malak wanted to build more ships to reinforce Iridonia. However, we simply cannot build more ships and have the staff to man them. I've withdrawn as much of the fleet from the outer and mid rims as I dare to reinforce Iridonia. We've sacrificed more unessential holdings, knowing that the Republic in response would likely withdraw their fleet from those places to reinforce the core worlds. But there's more to pressing forward than being able to protect our rear. The Republic will put as much of its strength into protecting the core as possible. Still, a significant portion of the Republic fleet is behind us. We run a strong risk of being cut off from the outer rim should the Republic attack us from behind. Furthermore, we are not in a strong enough position to both press forward into such hostile territory and watch our backs."

"Then what will you do?"

"Malak was right to want to build more ships, albeit he wanted to for the wrong reasons. The problem with our pressing forward is that as soon as we choose a system to attack, such as Corellia, we will end up fighting the whole of the Republic's core fleet, as well as what reinforcements have arrived from outside the core. The window of time where we could press forward from Iridonia without worry of the Republic sending reinforcements against us is long closed. If we are to keep Iridonia safe, we can only afford to use at most one of our fleets. To safely use more would require a significant distraction."

My eyes widened as it dawned on me what he meant. "You wish to use empty ships as a decoy? As a feint?"

He smiled. "Oh, not only that. I wish to feign that Iridonia is reinforced. I'll still leave a manned fleet, but the rest will be unmanned decoy ships. They won't dare attack us from behind. And once the battle ensues, they will be so focused on defending Corellia that they won't be concerned with Iridonia."

"Will you send decoys to another system? To distract from Corellia?" My heart pounded in my chest at the thought. I worried that Corellia would be leveled before the battle even began.

"Unfortunately," he answered, "the decoys will likely buy us a scant few minutes at best, simply because the Republic fleet is near hyperspace lanes in the core that lead directly to Corellia. Worse yet, the decoys would likely only attract a very small portion of the Republic fleet. At this point I am sure the Republic is watching Corellia closely, as it is in the general direction of our advancement. They won't take their eyes off it. They've been waiting for us. They are probably hoping to lure us there, in fact, by leaving it seemingly undefended. From their present locations, they can jump into the system and overwhelm us. No, the more practical use I have for them is to feign an offense of several points within the Corellian system itself. Meanwhile, the real fleet will jump into the system from a different point, and mount its offense there."

"It still only buys you a scant few minutes," I pointed out.

"Yes, but the brunt of the entire Republic attack will be on the decoys. Not just some of it. That will buy us enough time to strike at Corellia's automated defense systems before the Republic fleet reaches us. From there, we can hopefully begin pressing in on the shipyards as we fend off the Republic. If we can so much as destroy the new fleet of ships they've built, then our mission will have been a success. There is no need to take over Corellia. Realistically, I'd rather withdraw to Iridonia before they figure out our 'reserve' fleet is a sham. Of course, if the opportunity presents itself, we'll do what we can to establish a position there."

I nodded my head, contemplating how I could throw the battle.

"Oh, and as a bonus," Revan said, "the decoys double as a minefield." He gave me a wicked grin.

My mouth went dry at the thought. "So how many of these decoys are there? How did you build them so fast?"

"Oh, enough for two full fleets. And I started having them built and sent to Iridonia weeks ago. I suppose I anticipated I'd need some sort of clever distraction. Now seems like as good an opportunity as any to use them."

"Still, that is an impressive turnaround time to build two mock fleets. How are you doing all this? Where do all your real ships come from?"

"Ah, that's a surprise. Let me make you a deal. When this is over, I'll not just tell you. I'll show you."

"Fair enough," I said, though I was inwardly disappointed. It would have been valuable intel to give to the Republic once I escaped. "So I'm assuming this modification to your plans involves me directly somehow?"

"Well, in general, you are my apprentice, and as such I expect you to learn from me. But more practically, I'll need you to refrain from using your Battle Meditation until they've engaged our fleet. They might otherwise avoid attacking the decoys if they sense their morale dropping as soon as they've jumped into the system. Wait until they engage the real ships, and then hammer them."

I nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Excellent. Now, we have much to do to prepare."

At that, our little strategy meeting ended.

**.:.**

I spent the rest of the day following Revan around. His flag officers, as well as Malak, had already received the recce reports and came prepared to the staff meeting. Revan devised a time of attack with them. It would be at 0300 the next day. Fortunately, the meeting was relatively short, so that I did not have to long endure Malak's jealous glare. Revan and I spent many hours thereafter going over logistics. As dry as reading datapads was for me, I noted that Revan seemed to thrive off it. It was like he was going over a jigsaw puzzle and making sure each and every small piece fit correctly in the montage. It was all I could do to keep up and figure out what it was he wanted me to point out or contribute. In particular, he was very interested in going over the various commands in his fleet, from fighter squadrons to task forces within the fleet. Some of his organization and tactics I was well familiar with, having faced them myself. But now I learned the detailed ins and outs of his navy, all so I could better assist with my Battle Meditation.

Finally, after we had rushed through an early dinner while working on the couch in his quarters, he called it a day. At least for me.

"Well I think it's time you retired," he said, setting his datapad down on the dejarik board. "I want you well rested for tomorrow. And please," he added, "don't stay up all night again second guessing yourself. All right?"

My insides jumped when he said that. I could only hope he didn't know my intentions. But obviously he didn't, as I'm sure he wouldn't have included me in all his planning if he did. Still, I was very disturbed by his ability to read me. Though I shouldn't have been so surprised, as I had noted I could read him quite well, even when he was in another room.

"Well," I said, "I'll be sure to set my alarm this time. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. Sleep well."

"Um, you too." I noticed he had picked up his datapad again. "Aren't you going to retire as well?"

"With you? That would be delightful!"

"No, I mean separately."

"Ah, well, I only sleep maybe at most two hours a night."

"Why?"

"Too much work to do. No rest for the wicked." He shot me a wink. "But don't be so surprised. How else do you think I'm able to spare you so much time in training?"

"Well I'd never really thought about that I suppose."

"Well now you have. Go on now. You can rest for the both of us."

I nodded and turned to leave.

"And Bastila," he said, stopping me from leaving as usual.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Thank you."

"For-for what?"

"For making all of this possible."


	14. Nerf Steak and Eggs

**CHAPTER 13 – Nerf Steak and Eggs**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The next morning—which came all too soon and very early—I awoke to a buzzing chrono. Honestly, I was grateful that it woke me, as my dreams were filled with dread of what was likely to come. Perhaps it was merely my own fear, but I do wonder often even now if it was a premonition in the Force. It didn't matter much to me either way, however. I knew that I was likely to fail in my escape. However, at this point I think the hope of escape had become more of a secondary goal. My first goal was now to cripple Revan's advance into the core worlds. If the Republic could damage his own ship in the battle, only then would I have a slim chance of escaping in the confusion.

I spent some time meditating—no, praying—in my quarters before heading out to meet Revan. While I still felt it unsafe to recite the Jedi Code to calm myself, I knew I needed to do something to get my heart rate under control. But it was to little avail. After a few minutes I gave up. Before leaving, I reached under my pillow for the only weapon I had other than the Force itself—the fork Revan had given me. I slipped it under my robes and tapped on the door to alert the guards that I was coming out. Per Revan's wishes, they escorted me to the bridge to report.

Revan, wearing his full armor and mask, stood at the viewport. "Ah, our good luck charm has arrived," he said, turning to face me. "Come, stand beside me."

The guards removed themselves from the bridge, leaving me to step forward alone.

"Good luck charm?" I asked when I was beside him. "Is that the best you can come up with? Shall I remind you that there is no such thing as luck?"

"Indeed. There is only fate, and only the fate that we forge with our own wills. Will you bless my battle, oh War Goddess?" He inclined his head in a mock bow.

I rolled my eyes. "Please, have you no respect for a Higher Power?"

"No. The will of the Force is whatever we make it to be. I'm not going to sit around meditating like some old Jedi coot in a temple interpreting the butterflies in my tummy as the will of the Force."

"Well, then. I suppose, in a way, that the will of the Force today is whatever my will is, now isn't it?" I teasingly cocked an eyebrow. "I hope you brought me libations and burnt offerings to gain my favor."

"Oh, yes. In fact, I have a libation of Tarisian ale ready for after the battle."

"Fair enough. But what will you do _before_ the battle to appease me?"

"How do you take your burnt offerings?"

"Medium rare."

Revan flicked on the commlink on his wrist. "I need a breakfast brought to my quarters. Nerf steak and eggs. Medium rare and..." His masked head tilted toward me questioningly.

"Over medium," I said.

"Over medium," he repeated. "Make that two orders."

"Since when did you ever feed me breakfast?" I asked.

"You will likely have all your concentration taxed for this battle. It's in both our best interests to keep hunger pangs from distracting you."

"Quite a bit of protein. Are you trying to blow my kidneys out?"

"Well fruit doesn't make a good burnt offering, now does it?"

"No, I suppose not."

He offered his arm. "Come along. We won't be making the jump for another half hour."

He led me to the anteroom of his quarters. The food was brought within moments of our sitting down at his table. I hungrily attacked the steak. Most mornings I forgot just how hungry I really was without a proper breakfast. It was the last proper meal I would enjoy for a long time, I'm afraid. I could feel it even then, and so I treasured every bite.

"Are you nervous?" Revan asked between bites of his own steak.

I figured there was no lying to him. He likely felt my sense of dread. "I...I suppose I am. There is a lot at stake in this battle." Ironically, I had told the truth, from a certain point of view.

"Yes, but I wouldn't fret. You'll do just fine."

"Well I should hope so. I wouldn't want to end up wishing I were dead or anything," I said, referring to his prior comment of what should happen if I failed him.

"Bastila, I know the difference between doing your best to succeed and failing, and deliberate sabotage. You have nothing to worry about if you do your best, no matter the outcome. I'm a fair man. I won't punish you for something that can't be helped."

I slowly nodded, staring down at my fork as it swirled the runny yellow egg yolk around the plate. Sometimes, Masters, he always managed to make me feel guilty for wanting to betray him. There he was, putting so much faith in me. He seemed thankful. Even worse, he seemed reasonable at moments like this. Still, my resolve had hardened by then. There was no going back. I had had more than enough glimpses of his darker impulses. He stood for tyranny, and I could not abide watching the Republic fall to it without trying to prevent it somehow.

My last decent meal ended all too quickly. Revan picked up his mask, though not yet donning it, and led me outside his quarters. Surprisingly, he did not lead me to the bridge. Rather, he led me to our training room, where his guards stood at attention.

"I understand you require a distraction-free environment, yes?" he said.

I nodded. "This room will do just fine. Thank you." The weapons rack had been cleared, of course. However, several mats and pillows were out for me to sit on and meditate. Revan had thought of everything without my even asking.

"Will there be anything else you need?"

"No, no. This is perfect..."

"Just ask the guards if you need anything at all."

"Yes, of course."

He then handed me an object. "Here," he said. I looked down at the object in my hand. It was a commlink. "Should something go wrong, I may need to contact you and have you focus your Battle Meditation elsewhere. Likewise, you are welcome to contact me if there's any trouble."

I nodded.

"And..." Revan trailed off.

"Yes?"

He put his free hand on my shoulder. "I want to thank you again. For everything. I know that this...situation...is unpleasant for you. The guards, my harsh manner-"

"Yes, in training especially."

He smiled. "A necessary evil, I'm afraid. Though I wish it were otherwise."

"Don't forget your dejarik bets, your jesting at my expense-"

"And my lousy pickup lines," he said, grinning.

I couldn't help but laugh at that. My laughter stopped, however, when his hand moved from my shoulder to brush my cheek. His face leaned a few more inches toward mine. For a moment, I worried he would kiss me. I feared my Sith apprentice facade would crumble if he did so. The mere idea of him kissing me was revolting. It wouldn't go over well if I slapped him for it.

"Bastila, if I...if I say such things, it's only because I...You know that the Sith and Jedi are both alike in this regard. We both view attachment as a vulnerability...a weakness."

"Of course," I said, my mouth having gone dry and the words tumbling out hoarsely.

"What I'm trying to say is, if things were different..."

I could not believe what I was hearing, Masters. It seemed as though he were making some sort of passionate confession of...of love? Affection? Was he even capable of such a thing? Of something that involved selflessness toward another human being?

He quickly dispelled any such thoughts. "What I mean is, even though the situation cannot change out of necessity, I still...I want to make it up to you. I don't want you to regret making this decision. Despite whatever my manner may convey, you truly do have my eternal gratitude, as well as my utmost respect. And I fully intend on repaying you in kind in every way."

His face was now half an inch away from mine, and I could feel his hot breath on my lips, even as his hand moved from my cheek to stroke my ear and hair. I shut my eyes tightly and braced myself for the inevitable, promising myself not to vomit. Instead, however, he surprised me by dropping his hand from my face and taking my own hand to his lips.

"Good hunting, my War Goddess," he said, his hand still gently holding mine close to his face.

Oh Masters! I nearly fell to the dark side right then and there. For the first time, he almost seemed to see me as a person rather than as an object to be used. His voice carried nothing but respect. There was no trace of teasing, no trace of his usual manipulation. I could only feel sincerity in the faint bond we shared. His gratitude nearly made me second-guess myself one last time. If he had treated me thus from the very beginning, I know for certain I would have fallen to the dark side. Even at that moment, if it hadn't been for my earlier resolve, the temptation would have been too strong.

Revan at last released my hand, and turned to leave. I finally snapped out of the trance this one small act had held me in.

"Wait," I said. He turned to face me again. "Are those guards going to be in _here_ with _me_?"

"Yes. Will that be a problem?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"How so? You can't possibly expect me to concentrate with all those people staring over my shoulder and breathing so heavily."

His eyes narrowed, as if trying to see past my words and into my thoughts. Fortunately, I was still telling the truth, from a certain point of few. I truly couldn't concentrate with any noise whatsoever. Battle Meditation was very taxing and required all my focus. If so much as a pin dropped, I ran the risk of becoming distracted.

Discerning I told the truth, Revan nodded at last. He turned to one of the guards. "Wait outside the room. No one is to enter but myself. I trust your blasters are set to stun. If she tries to leave, or if the battle goes ill, shoot her; and I'll deal with her later."

With that, he donned his mask and stormed out, the guards trailing behind him.

The illusion of respect—and even the hint of affection—with which he had left me had now crumbled. My resolve hardened tenfold. I sat down on the pillows and waited. Mere minutes later, I felt the ship drop out of hyperspace. I slipped into a deep meditation.

I must ask your forgiveness, Masters. I gave Revan what he had coming. And I enjoyed every minute of it.


	15. Escape from Stalag 17

**CHAPTER 14 – Escape from Stalag 17**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

I waited to use my Battle Meditation. My plan was to follow Revan's orders, at least at first. I wanted him to believe nothing was amiss until it was too late. Instead, I probed the locations of each and every ship in Revan's fleet, orienting myself. In my mind's eye, I could see the entire Republic fleet already attacking the decoys Revan had sent ahead. Moreover, I sensed Corellia with all its automated defenses—mines upon mines, as well as various orbital turrets. The Sith fleet immediately engaged the defenses. They were no match for the combined firepower of Revan's massive fleet, and in mere minutes what had been a minefield was now a debris field. But the Republic fleet was now alerted to the true threat. Already they had been turning away from the trap that was the exploding decoy ships. Fortunately, most of the Republic fleet was unharmed by them. Still, I felt the sting of each loss.

The Republic ships closed in, and Revan's turned to face them. I began to use my Battle Meditation. However, my plan hinged on deception. If I were to immediately demoralize Revan's fleet and boost the morale of the Republic's, Revan would be alerted, and I would accomplish nothing. Therefore, I boosted the Sith's morale. But little did he know I was also boosting the Republic's as well.

The two fleets collided. I could see a portion of Revan's break off to attack the shipyards. That's when I began to demoralize Revan's fleet, and only that part that had broken off. Meanwhile, I mentally urged the Republic fleet to deal with the threat to the shipyards, almost willing them to defend their newest line of nearly-completed ships. Several of these ships were destroyed or damaged before the Republic fleet repelled their attackers. I could almost feel Revan's confusion at that. Still, he remained oblivious to my betrayal. More Sith ships broke away to attack the shipyard—as many as Revan dared spare. I repeated the process, while beginning to demoralize the rest of Revan's fleet. All but his own ship, to keep Revan fooled as long as possible. I knew if his attack against the shipyard were repelled again he would know I had done it. There was nothing for it now.

I could feel the line of Sith ships break against the Republic's, like water against a rock. I fed the Sith fleet all the despair I had ever felt while being Revan's prisoner. It was my own revenge. I did not even spare Revan's ship now. I didn't care if I went down with his ship, as long as the Republic won the day. Revan's fleet now moved sluggishly as the Republic's cut through it. I could see the lives of multiple Sith ships go out in the Force as the ships themselves exploded. Sith fighters zigzagged helter-skelter in confusion.

The Republic fleet had now cut through to Revan's own flagship, courageously taking the opportunity to destroy the leader of their enemy. I threw all my will into encouraging the Republic fleet. Their morale soared even beyond what I was capable of giving, for it began to dawn on them where their newly found hope came from. I could feel the heart of every Republic soldier say, _She's alive!_ My own heart soared to feel such admiration from them. Yet at the same time I was humbled that they looked to me so.

My elation was soon crushed.

"Bastila, what are you doing?" I knew well the voice, despite the static from the comm.

The game was up. I broke my meditation and quickly used the Force to cut electricity from the door, hoping that the guards behind it were not so Force adept as to be able to break through.

"Bastila? Answer me."

I could hear the guards scrambling to open the door. First they tried prying it open manually, but I used the Force to hold it shut. Then they started to shoot at it, almost in a frantic panic. Moments later they stopped shooting, as at least one of the more sensible ones procured a lightsaber. I saw the door begin to melt.

Even as they did all this, I felt the ship shudder. It was under heavy attack. I turned my focus away from the door, and slipped into Battle Meditation one last time. It would be at most two minutes before the guards melted a hole in the door. I thought to help the Republic break this ship, and to cause such chaos aboard it that I could make my escape.

So it was that I sensed Admiral Dodonna's flagship and Revan's exchanging fire. I once again demoralized Revan's ship, and gave Dodonna's and the surrounding Republic vessels and fighters a surge of confidence. I guided the fighters to their targets, willing them to aim true.

The ship rocked violently. Alarms blared.

I leapt to my feet and ran for the door. The hole was nearly melted. I stood to the side, waiting, fork in hand, knowing full well that only one guard at a time could possibly fit through that hole. Mere moments later, the first of the guards stepped through. My fork tore into his neck. Ripping it back out, I snatched his blaster from his hands and fired at the other guards. They returned fire, and I dove to the side. An eerie pause followed, the guards knowing full well that entering the room one at a time was certain death. But I knew I couldn't stay there long, not if I actually wanted to get out of the room. I pocketed my fork and took the time to set my blaster from stun to full firepower. The ship shook again, causing all of us to stagger. I pressed my advantage. I charged through the hole, Force-pushing the disoriented guards back as I did. One sought to fire his blaster at me, but I was faster. He gaped stupidly at me when he found his hands empty, his blaster ripped away by the Force. He fell to the floor, stunned from his own blaster, and likely mortally wounded from the other I held.

Before I could do anything else, I felt the butt of a rifle strike the side of my head. Staggering around, I blindly fired both blasters at what were now blurry targets. Another guard tripped me. I fell to the ground, kicking the guard who was dragging at my legs. I struggled to crawl away. Where my blasters were, I did not know. Blindly I reached for something, anything. My hand found a cold, cylindrical object—the lightsaber that had melted the door. Another guard fired his blaster. The shot deflected back at him just as my lightsaber ignited. I thrust the weapon into the head of the guard pinning my legs.

I was free. The guards were either stunned or dead. I had little time to think. I picked up one of the blasters and grabbed the comm headset from one of the corpses.

Revan's voice crackled from the headset as I fled down the hall. "Unit four, report. What is your status?"

I contemplated replying but decided it was more important to clear that level of the ship. Fortunately, I was already in the garb of a Dark Jedi. If I could make it towards the more public corridors of the ship, I would blend in perfectly. From my prior trips to Revan's bridge, I knew exactly how to get there. The question was whether someone would be waiting for me at the elevator.

The comm crackled again, as if to confirm my worst fears. "Units two and three, head for the elevator at level 20. We have an escaped Jedi prisoner. I want her captured alive at all costs. Anyone who harms her will suffer her fate."

I stopped in my tracks. I was unfamiliar with any other route out of the area. There was no other way. With renewed determination, I checked that the blaster I had picked up was set to full firepower.

I resumed my race to the elevator. The ship continued to shake under heavy fire, often throwing my strides off balance. Finally rounding the corner, I saw that the elevator was clear. I ran up to it, but even as I came close, the light above the doors lit up with a chime. I hesitated, debating if I should hide myself. But I realized that they would find me eventually, especially if they were Force adepts as Revan had told me. Moreover, Revan himself would find me, given our small bond.

The doors opened, but I was ready.

"Don't move, or I swear I'll pull the trigger," I said, my blaster pressed to the side of my head.

The guards in the elevator regarded me warily. At first I wasn't sure if they took my threat seriously. Then one of the guards spoke into his comm headset.

"Lord Revan, the Jedi prisoner threatens to kill herself."

Revan's reply came through both the guard's commlink and mine. "Clarify."

"She's holding a blaster to her own head, sir."

Revan's breath seethed into the comm. "Very well. Let her pass."

The guards slowly filed out of the elevator. I cautiously entered it, never turning my back to them. The doors closed, and I heaved a sigh of relief. Quickly I pushed the button for level 15—the one I knew from Revan's previous briefing with me led to the hanger.

I wasted no time waiting for the elevator to arrive. Using my lightsaber, I carved a hole through the access panel in the ceiling, and Force-jumped to the top. I waited, the sound of alarms and explosions echoing through the shaft. As I had suspected, Revan wouldn't let me get by that easily. My headset buzzed to life again.

"I want units five and six to head to the elevator at level 15. Set your blasters to stun and open fire as soon as the doors open."

The elevator came to a stop less than a minute later. Sure enough, as soon as the door opened, the elevator car lit up with the fire of ten blasters. At last the fire ceased.

I knew I couldn't fight them all off. Certainly not from the precarious perch on which I stood. So I played the only card I had left.

I spoke into my headset. "Hello, Revan."

There was a long silence on the other end, interrupted only by the continued cannon fire outside the ship and occasional explosions.

At last, he replied. "I see you've been listening. Clever girl."

"Yes, and if your kath hounds don't back off, I have no choice but to kill myself."

"I don't think you have the courage to pull the trigger."

"And yet you let me take a ride down the elevator."

"Merely a precaution."

"You're afraid I'll do it."

"Shall I call your bluff, then?"

"Not if you want me alive."

He paused for a moment. "Bastila, if you surrender now, I promise-"

"What? Not to kill me? I'm quite certain you want me alive anyway."

"Please, Bastila. This is all so pointless. How far do you think you'll really make it? Did you really think you could just slip away to the hanger and leave on one of my ships?"

"Hmm, yes, and my other alternative would be?"

"Surrender without a fight. I swear to you, all will be forgiven if you come along willingly. It's not too late for you to turn this battle around."

The ship lurched from another explosion, as if to call Revan a liar.

"Oh please, it will be all you can do to retreat!" I said.

"Bastila..."

"And here I thought you were a man of your word."

"I am."

"Then I already know based on your prior promises that I'll be wishing for death if I fall back into your hands."

There was another long pause. I could feel his anger burning, and by this I knew that I had struck a chord.

"Revan, you realize my blaster is no longer set to stun? One mistake and I could accidentally blow my head off..."

"If I can't have you-"

"What? No one can? How very petty of you."

"You haven't seen just how petty I can get."

"I've seen enough. Like I said, if you hope to take me alive, then I suggest you call off your kath hounds. I swear I'll pull this trigger if..."

He hissed through his commlink, cutting me off. "All units, stand down. Let her pass for now. Keep out of sight."

I felt the guards withdraw. Cautiously, I jumped into the elevator car. I made sure I pressed the blaster back to my head, my finger dangerously bordering on squeezing the trigger.

I saw through the open doors that the hallway was clear. The only noise was the alarms, and the only sight that of flashing lights. Instead of exiting the car, however, I pressed a button for the bridge. It was a dangerous ploy, and it wouldn't take the guards long to figure out where I was headed. But it would stall them. Making for the hanger was literally suicidal at best. Maybe Revan was right. Maybe I didn't have the nerve to pull the trigger. I had little time to contemplate that, though. The doors opened. I cautiously peered out. Numerous personnel were running helter skelter around the ship. I could smell smoke. A fire crew ran by.

I took my blaster to the elevator control panel. That would slow down the guards from reaching that level. I knew there were crew escape pods near the bridge, sharing a door with the bridge much like on the _Maelstrom_. I planned on using the crew entrance, obviously, so as to avoid the bridge. It was a dangerous ploy, but so was the entire escape plan. I had nothing to lose. I could only hope Revan was still focused on the hanger—as well as the battle outside. I could feel his apprehension in the back of my mind. He was torn between two problems, and that was to my advantage.

I lowered my blaster and casually stepped out of the elevator, as though I were just another Dark Jedi.

A voice crackled over the comm. "Lord Revan, the prisoner has not left the elevator on this level. We believe she took the elevator to another floor."

"Then follow her."

"My lord, the elevator is not responding. We'll have to take the emergency stairway."

My headset hissed loudly in my ear. "Bastila, what are you up to?"

I had made it to the escape pod door already. It was now or never. I punched the controls to the door. It slid open, and I ran through, pressing the blaster back to my head as I did so.

"Hello, Bastila."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Sure enough, Revan had entered the room through the bridge door. His mask hid the snarl I knew he wore. I glanced quickly at the vast row of escape pods lining one side of the room.

"Did you think to slip past my own bridge? How stupid do you think I am?"

"Stupid enough to let me use my Battle Meditation against your own fleet for so long?"

"I was a little preoccupied. But don't worry. I'll be dedicating my full attention to you from now on to address your treachery."

"Treachery? Isn't that the way of the Sith you've been teaching me all along?" I eyed the nearest escape pod, wondering if I could open the hatch quickly enough.

"And yet here you are running back to the Jedi." His feet shifted to take a step toward me, almost imperceptibly.

"Don't move!" I said, clenching the trigger tightly. The slightest squeeze and it would all be over.

He shifted back, raising his hands in supplication. "You know I can't let you leave. If you put the blaster down now, you have my word I will be merciful."

"Mercy? From a Sith? Please. I've seen your mercy. I won't be your prisoner for the rest of my life."

"Prisoner?" he yelled. "I have offered you everything!"

"Everything but my freedom."

"Bastila, please. Come along quietly."

"I know what you're planning. This bond goes two ways, Revan."

He inhaled a breath, gathering whatever patience he had left. "I know you must be frightened of me right now. And rightly so. But I assure you that you won't have to go back to that table if you surrender."

"Then how else do you expect to turn me?"

He cocked his head sideways. "My dear, look at yourself. You're afraid. Angry. There's not a trace of Jedi serenity about you. You've already turned."

"No," I said, shaking my head.

His hands slowly reached for his mask. He lowered it from his face, looking me in the eye. Surprisingly, his face showed no anger. "Listen. I know I pushed you too fast into all of this. It's understandable that you wouldn't want to betray the Jedi just yet. I'm sorry. I tried to take your ability from you before you were ready to give it."

"You act like I wasn't planning to betray you all along. Surely you understand that I planned all this?"

He nodded. "Yes, I knew you had doubts. I know you still have your doubts about the Jedi. You just need more time."

"You mean to honestly tell me you're not angry with me?"

"Of course. But I'm also angry at myself for not seeing your intentions sooner. This is partly my fault."

Something didn't seem right. I couldn't tell if he was masking his anger or not, but I knew something else was going on. It felt like he was stalling me. I glanced at the nearest escape pod again.

Revan stepped toward me slowly, dropping his mask as he did so. "Please, put the blaster down. Allow me to amend all this."

I backed away. "Don't come any closer."

The ship comm intervened. "All hands prepare for an emergency jump to hyperspace in T minus two minutes."

Revan's lips curled into a sadistic smirk, wiping away any prior expression of sincerity. He had indeed been stalling me. If I didn't make it off this ship before the jump, there would be no escape.

"You see, my dear," Revan said, "you're not getting off this ship."

"I won't be your prisoner again."

"Then go ahead and pull the trigger, Bastila."

I closed my eyes, my finger dangerously on the verge of squeezing the trigger. And I hesitated, if but for a split second.

That hesitation cost the Republic everything.

One moment, the blaster was pressed to my head. The next, it was gone. I opened my eyes in shock. Revan held it in his hand, a knowing smile spread across his face. A tense moment stretched between us. Both of us were coiled like a spring, sizing the other up, waiting for the other to make a move.

But I couldn't wait forever. "Jump to hyperspace in T minus one minute," the comms blared.

I grabbed my lightsaber from my belt. Revan charged me, bearing not one but two lightsabers. Our blades collided. But his time, even with only a single blade, I was more aggressive. I would make Revan rue ever training me.

His leg swept into mine, but my stance held, being perfectly balanced. Then I moved into him, driving him back, even as both his blades flurried to find an opening. My own blade aggressively parried his blows, equally prying at his own defenses, just as he had taught me. At last, his defenses were beginning to collapse.

I suddenly flew backward, flung away from him with the Force. I landed on my back on the other side of the room, my lightsaber knocked from my hand, and nowhere in sight. Weaponless, I desperately reached up to the hatch lever of the escape pod next to me, swinging the door open.

I was not fast enough. I looked up to see Revan lunging toward me, and just barely rolled away in time. His two blades were buried into the ground, right were my shoulders would have been. He was clearly still trying to disable me rather than kill me, otherwise I'm sure I would have died much earlier in the fight. Still, his desperation to possess my Battle Meditation worked to my advantage.

I sent a Force wave of my own toward him, knocking him from his knees to the ground.

"T minus thirty seconds until jump to hyperspace."

It was now or never. I shot to my feet and lunged to the escape pod door, stepping on Revan's back as I took my first step inside.

Two hands shoved me from behind. I fell face-forward into the pod. Before I could get my bearings, Revan was with me in the pod, pinning my body face down on the cramped floor.

"Bastila, I'm disappointed in you," he hissed in my ear, his face practically pinning mine. "You didn't even stab me with a fork."

A smirk curled my lips. Revan's subsequent scream of pain and rage would have curdled the blood of the most battle-hardened Mandalorian. My free hand, which had been only slightly pinned under my own body, had found its target—the weak spot in his armor where his upper torso plating met the lower, to provide freedom of movement. A little help from the Force buried the fork deep into the side of his stomach.

"T minus ten seconds."

I rolled away from under him, even as he clutched the fork to pull it out of himself. I dove toward the escape pod hatch and closed it.

"Seven."

Before I could press the launch controls, Revan pulled me from behind. I elbowed him in his wound and lunged forward again, ignoring the pain his armor caused my elbow. This time he obliged me by shoving me from behind. My head hit the door, and I collapsed to the ground.

"Four."

I staggered onto my knees, stretching my free hand toward the launch controls. Revan backhanded me from above.

"Three."

I drew on the Force to push him away. His body slammed into the other side of the pod.

"Two."

I lunged toward the controls.

"One."

I had the briefest moment of relief as my hand pulled the red launch lever.

But nothing happened.

"T minus zero. Jumping to hyperspace now."

A yellow safety light lit up above the controls, indicating that the pod was locked from launching while in hyperspace. The entire ship lurched as it jumped.

I stared at that yellow light in shock. Then my shock turned to dread, as I slowly turned around to face the consequences of my actions.

Revan looked none too pleased. His lips were curled in an angry snarl. Lightning cracked from his fingertips. I tried to dodge him, but the pod was far too cramped to get away. Electricity shook my body. I screamed.

Just as the lightning finally stopped, I felt a gloved hand pick me up by the throat. Revan brought my face level to his. I stared defiantly into his sickly yellow eyes.

"You're right," Revan said, his voice an angry growl. "I am a man of my word. I would have shown you some mercy, but I see now you are deserving of my original promise."

"It was worth it," I rasped, his choke hold barely allowing me to speak.

"Pardon?" He cocked an eyebrow inquisitively.

I coughed, and he loosened his grip on my throat, though still holding it, but mostly holding me up with the Force.

"Stabbing you with a fork. It was all worth it just for that. Was it as good for you as it was for me?" He gave me the most bewildered look. Raspy laughter erupted from my throat.

The last thing I saw was a feral snarl as he slammed my head into the wall of the escape pod. Darkness claimed me. And this time, there would be no escape.


	16. Hell Hath No Fury Like Darth Revan Scorn

**CHAPTER 15 – Hell Hath No Fury Like Darth Revan Scorned**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

**.:.**

_A righteous man regards the life of his animal, but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel._

Proverbs 12:10

I awoke slowly, groggily, and reluctantly. Still, the comfort of unconsciousness finally left me. When I fully awoke, I found myself chained once again to Revan's interrogation table. Alone.

I could feel a neural restraining collar on my neck, as well as an IV in my wrist. It seemed I was more out of sorts than the last time I had worn a collar. The level must have been increased. I could hear nothing but the beep of my own vital signs, and it soon drove me mad. There was no Revan. No person. I was left there for Force knows how long with that incessant beeping. Though it felt like days, I knew in reality it must have been mere hours at most.

I think that was the worst part of it all. The waiting. Perhaps Revan did it on purpose. To leave me hanging in suspense. Sometimes the fear of what will happen is far worse than the actual thing we fear. And oh how my worst fears preyed upon me! I wanted so badly just to get it all over with.

And finally Revan granted my wish. The door slid open, and in he strode. He moved stiffly in his armor, his side clearly paining him. However, he wore no mask. I would have thought he would have worn it to intimidate me, to dehumanize himself with me. But no. He had a personal vendetta this time, and he meant to deal with me on a very personal level.

Oddly enough, he pulled up a chair, and sat down. He said nothing to me. I did my best to mentally brace myself, turning my focus toward the ceiling and away from the monster whose wrath I feared. Still he did not speak. I closed my eyes, trying to keep calm. I could hear his breathing. It was calm. Far calmer than my own. I envied him.

At last I could take the silence no longer. "How's the fork wound?"

"All patched up. Thank you for asking," he replied, his voice as calm as his breathing.

"Just get it over with," I hissed.

"Get what over with?"

"Aren't you going to torture me? Turn me to the dark side?"

"Oh, there's no need to turn you. You've already fallen."

I was afraid he was right. I swallowed hard. "No."

He leaned over the table, resting on his folded arms. "Deny it all you want. You don't have a trace of Jedi left in you. But no matter. I'm not here to turn you."

"Then what are you here for?"

"Therein lies the question. You've butchered my fleet. You've made me the laughing stock of my men. I've had to put down eight insurrections of my Dark Jedi in the last seven hours, all while trying to safely move the fleet to Iridonia. You tell me. What should I do with you?"

"You're here to punish me, then. So glad you're a man of your word."

"Yes. And hopefully through that punishment I'll have finally reasoned with you."

"I won't give you what you want. I don't care what you do to me."

"What choice do you have? You're tainted. The Jedi wouldn't want you back now."

"You may not think I have a choice, but I do," I spat. "Even if I have fallen to the dark side, I wouldn't give you my Battle Meditation just out of spite. So go ahead and torture me. I'll only hate you more for it."

A snarl curled on his face, finally breaking the calm exterior he presented. He stood, lightning crackling from his hand. "Don't say things you don't mean." I cringed, and the electricity in his hand abated to my small obeisance. Which surprised me.

"It drives you crazy, doesn't it?" I said, a smile curving on my lips.

Revan cocked his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"That you can't have all of me. Even if you break me, you still won't have my loyalty. I'll betray you the first chance I get, at the most inopportune time. You'll never have what you truly want. I'll always be a Jedi at heart, just to be your enemy."

He looked as though I had stabbed him with a fork all over again. "Have I treated you so poorly that you should hate me so?" he said bitterly.

"Yes."

He slammed his fist into the table, inches from my head. "Don't lie to me!" he shouted. "I would have given you anything you wanted. All you had to do was ask!"

"No, you would only have given me what _you_ wanted me to have! I don't want what you want, and I never will. I will destroy the empire you build every chance I get!"

"Then you will be nothing more than my slave to do with what I wish, and you can live in your cell until I have no further use for you. Is that what you want? When you can have so much more?"

"More of what? You can dress up my prison cell with whatever amenities you like. I'm still your prisoner."

"What more could I possibly give you?" he asked, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

"My freedom."

"Not possible. I need your gift."

I laughed as a realization hit me. "You're not really here to punish me, are you? You're here to beg me."

"Beg?"

"You can't break me in time to clean up this mess. The strain of torture might exhaust me too much to help you, wouldn't it?"

"Please, I could break you in under a week."

"Then why have you wasted so much time prattling? Unless you want me to fear punishment, and then offer mercy."

Anger darkened his face. "Wasn't it you who said I was not capable of mercy?"

"Tell me, Revan. How many hours until the Republic fleet arrives at Iridonia? Or are we down to minutes?"

An uncontrollable rage overcame him then. I had called his bluff. Unfortunately, he was about to call mine. His hand wrapped around my throat roughly, though he did not squeeze.

"You think I won't harm you, Jedi? Are you so sure?" His face glowered inches from my own, his yellow eyes wild.

I froze, unable to do anything but stare back into those hateful eyes. I worried he would make good on his promise to punish me, but then he did the unexpected.

With frustrated, angry motions, he ripped the restraints off my wrists and ankles with the Force. "Get up!" he growled, dragging me to my feet. The IV in my wrist yanked the IV stand to the ground with a clash. Annoyed, Revan ripped the IV out of me, along with the vital signs monitor. I cried out more from the shock than the pain. The long drone of my vital signs flat-lining met my ears.

He pulled my arm towards the door.

"Where are we going?" I demanded.

"You still think you're a Jedi? Then I'll punish you like one." His grip on my arm tightened, and I had no choice but to stagger along as he dragged me through the bowels of his ship.

Along the way, numerous Dark Jedi and ship personnel gaped at my exposed form, still clad only in undergarments. But none gaped for two long, for such was Revan's anger that they could not help but stagger back.

At last, we reached the bridge. Except it didn't quite register with one of the sentries that it was an unmasked Darth Revan entering, despite the armor. He made the mistake of stepping in front of Revan's path.

The Dark Lord wasted no time. With a wave of his hand he flung the sentry's body aside. His bones cracked against the wall. The other sentry wisely scrambled out of the away.

Revan shoved me through the door. "Captain," he snarled, "have my former guards brought to the bridge. Now."

A panicked look washed over the captain's face at Revan's tone. "Ensign, you heard what he said. Bring the prisoners!"

His panic was contagious, for finally my own face began to melt in the heat of Revan's wrath.

Revan threw me to the floor in front of the viewport. I crawled into a sitting position, gaping at his hulking form. Fortunately, he seemed to momentarily turn his attention away from me, and toward the viewport. I warily gazed around the room, trying to get my bearings. Quite a crowd of officers had their eyes fixed on me. Among them was Darth Malak. All of their eyes reflected my own uncertainty of what Revan was about to do, but our silent question was soon to be answered.

Sith soldiers entered the bridge, along with two badly beaten prisoners in tow. Like me, they were stripped to their undergarments to humiliate them. One was a woman. Tears freely flowed down their faces.

I felt Revan kneel beside me, his breath stroking my neck. "Do you know who they are?"

I clenched my jaw, though the rest of my body shook.

"Answer me!" he hissed.

"No."

"Well, you should. They've been guarding you for months. It was their responsibility to keep you from getting out of the training room. It was their duty to stop you if you misused your Battle Meditation. They failed. They failed because of you. And now they have to suffer because of you."

I slowly shook my head in disbelief. "No, it wasn't their fault."

"They have families at home," he whispered. "One has small children, even. They are good people. Loyal. Not the treacherous dog you are."

"You don't have to do this," I said, a tear escaping down my cheek as the full weight of what Revan was about to do sank in.

"Do you think I want to do this? I have to do this. I cannot show weakness when my men show incompetence. I'm not doing this. You are."

"No!" Tears streamed down my face in a torrent.

"I want you to watch, Bastila. I want you to see what you've done. And I want you to see the extent of my mercy. Because you're right," he said. "I don't have any. I can't afford to have any."

With that, he rose and walked toward the prisoners. He started with the woman.

"Do you see this woman, Bastila?" Revan shouted, dragging her toward me by her hair. Her body wracked with sobs. "She used to fly my shuttle back when I was just a green Jedi Knight in the Republic navy. She's always kept my secrets. She's saved my life twice. You just killed her."

He threw her to the floor in front of me. Electricity lit her body. I shut my eyes in horror. But no amount of shutting my eyes could block out her screams, her cries for mercy. The smell of charred flesh invaded my nostrils. I made the mistake of opening my eyes, and wretched.

Finally, all fell silent. But Revan was just getting started.

"Do you see this man? His wife died when the Mandalorians invaded his home world. He has two boys at home. He's their only means of support. You just orphaned them."

The man's body trembled. "Please, my lord-"

He never had the chance to finish his plea. The man stood in shock staring at his own intestines on the floor before dropping. I wretched again, but nothing came out.

Revan raised his voice, addressing the entire bridge. "Does anyone else today wish to challenge me for control of the Empire? You all think I'm incompetent, don't you? That's what you say behind my back, isn't it?"

His words were met with silence. He paced toward the center of the bridge, the crew visibly cringing, even Malak. "Let it be known today, that not only will I not tolerate your little insurrections, but I _will_ not tolerate incompetence from _anyone_! I don't care if you're my own mother. The same intolerance you show to me, I show to you."

Revan turned back to me. I shut my eyes, avoiding his gaze. I could hear his boots clank on the floor closer and closer to me, stepping over the dead bodies. He roughly grabbed my arms and dragged me to my feet.

"Look at them," he said, gripping my hair. "You did this. I didn't want to do it. You forced my hand. Do you understand?"

"Monster," I seethed, my voice trembling.

"I've only just started being a monster, sweetheart." He dragged me by my hair toward the viewport.

"Do you see the planet down below?" he said, forcing my head to look at Iridonia. "Do you remember what happened to Telos?"

I clenched my jaw, rewarding his question with stony silence.

"Answer me!" he yelled, his fingers pulling my hair tighter.

"Malak leveled it," I said, my jaw slackening as it began to tremble.

"Yes, he did. And you know what? I'm going to do the same thing to Iridonia if you don't give me your Battle Meditation. Right now."

"No," I whispered.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Revan said. He turned to the captain. "Signal the fleet. I want all ships to move into orbit around Iridonia."

"Sir," the captain said, his voice still shaking, "we've just received reports indicating that the Republic fleet has just made the final jump to Iridonia. They'll be here any minute."

"I'm well aware of our predicament, Captain. Move the fleet into position."

"Yes, my lord."

I watched in horror as the multitude of ships moved into orbit around the planet. But time was against Revan.

"Sir, we have multiple readings. The Republic is here. ETA two minutes."

"My orders stand."

Revan was playing quite the game of chicken, waiting for me to flinch. Somehow, though, I didn't think he would really do it. Not with the Republic fleet less than two minutes away.

But Revan quickly vanquished all doubt from my mind. He leaned into my ear, still holding my hair in a vice grip. "What's it going to be, Bastila?"

"Please, you wouldn't allow your fleet to be destroyed just to make a point."

"I'm afraid you're wrong about that. I don't like to lose. But if I do lose, I lose big."

"Monster."

"No, you're the monster if you let those innocent people die. Choose."

I decided to play his game of chicken, hoping he would flinch first. "I can't wait to see the look on your face when the Republic takes you."

"Very well," he said coolly. Revan turned back to the captain. "Are all ships positioned? Very good. Have them begin their targeting sequence. But fire only on my mark."

Malak stepped up from behind. "Master, we must-"

"I am well aware, Malak!"

I closed my eyes, praying that Revan would back down. But he didn't. I could hear the cannons charging with a rumble that shook the ship. It finally occurred to me that Revan really would go through with it. Oh Masters! Could I let the lives of millions of civilians be extinguished? Yet I was torn by the thought of betraying the men and women of the Republic who counted on me to protect them with my gift. Masters, I truly did at the time feel that it would be all my fault if all those civilians died. Not when I could do something, anything, to sway Revan's decision. And that's exactly the guilt Revan wanted me to feel. He was using my own Jedi compassion against me. It was the lives of millions versus the lives of thousands. By simple math, the decision seemed clear. If only I had had more time to gain perspective on the situation.

"Sir," the captain said, "the Republic fleet has engaged us."

"Ignore them. My orders still stand. Prepare to fire in three, two-"

"Monster!" I gasped, tears running down my face.

"If I go down, I'm taking them with me," he hissed. "Captain, you may fire when ready."

"Wait! Please. I'll do it," I said.

Revan shoved me to the ground. "Then I suggest you get started. And if you decide to betray me again, I swear I will turn this fleet back to the planet and take out as much as I can before the Republic destroys me. And I promise you, I'll snap your neck right before they do."

He suddenly jumped into action, barking orders madly to move the fleet to face the Republic, which had already crippled several of his ships. I sat on the floor staring at him, having one last moment of indecision.

He quickly stole that moment away with an angry glare in my direction. "Don't make me kill those people, Bastila."

"I-I...I need earplugs. To block out the noise."

He ripped the headset off of one of the ensigns and threw them at me. I fumbled to catch them, and put them on gingerly, my hands shaking. I turned the comm device on the headset off. The headset didn't block out the noise from the bridge completely, but it muffled things somewhat. I crossed my legs, and closed my eyes.

And betrayed the Republic.


	17. Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

**CHAPTER 16 – Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

Revan held more of an advantage than I had believed. Among the fleet in orbit around Iridonia were scattered multitudes of decoy ships. As before, they were rigged as mines. The Republic fleet had no way of knowing which ships were real until it was too late. Only when enough of Revan's fleet began to maneuver out of orbit did it become apparent which was which. By then, their fleet was mired all about the planet, caught among mines and enemy ships.

And I mired them there. My Battle Meditation. I betrayed them all. I could feel their morale slipping as they began to realize the source of their despair. No amount of Battle Meditation could have given them such low morale as the traitorous deed I did that day. Their disgust and anger with me became my own. At last they retreated, leaving behind many trapped ships to be torn apart, as well as a lingering sense of betrayal.

I opened my eyes as the last of the Republic ships fled to hyperspace. Tears stung my eyes as the full implications of what I had done settled in. A crippled Republic ship filled the viewport, exploding under the firepower of Revan's flagship.

"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" Revan snapped, his voice muffled by my headset.

I threw the headset to the ground in disgust. "Clean up your own mess."

My face slammed into the ground. Revan's gloved hand pressed down on my neck, nearly crushing it. "Don't you ever talk like that to me. Do you understand?"

He released me at last, and turned to the crew of the bridge. "Captain, you heard the lady. Clean up this mess. Have the fleet salvage whatever you can from the wreckage. Take no survivors. I want all our damaged ships to be replaced and their crews transferred as soon as possible. We have precious few days until the Republic finishes licking their wounds."

Revan turned back to me, grabbing my arm and dragging me to my feet. He stormed out of the bridge, his hand steering me by my hair as though by the mane of an unbridled horse. But we did not storm out alone. Malak followed but a few paces behind.

"Master," he called out.

Revan stopped, releasing my hair and turning dubiously to stare down his apprentice.

"I would not normally presume to ask, but the other Dark Jedi demand to know. What are your plans for your prisoner?"

"It's none of their business. And certainly not yours."

Rather than cower or lash out, Malak surprised me. He spoke softly. Almost...with concern. "Revan, I'm trying to help you."

"Are you, now? Don't think your public display of siding against their little insurrections fools me. Do you really think I don't know you were behind at least a few of those?"

Malak shook his head. "That's not true. They were trying to overthrow me with you. They are questioning my authority as well as yours. They want her blood. We must give them something."

"If you're having trouble keeping your men in line, that's your problem, not mine. If it pleases me to spill her blood, then I will do so."

"I've helped you keep _your _men in line."

Revan let out an exasperated sigh. He bit his lip, staring at the corridor wall in thought. At last, he turned his gaze back to his apprentice. "What do you want, Alek?"

"I know it's my duty to overthrow you. But I also know that now is not the time. Not with the Republic so close...Not with all the Dark Jedi wanting to seize the opportunity."

Revan let out a sarcastic chuckle. "What's the matter? Too much competition? Yes, I know. This is very bad timing for you, isn't it?"

"Revan, no matter my reasons, I'm on your side right now. We need each other to get out of this. Please, listen to me. Deal with that girl."

"Oh, you're right. You _do_ need me to get out of this. So why don't you go back to your little ship and mind your own business."

Malak's fist slammed into the corridor wall. "Don't you patronize me! Your business _is_ my business. It's _all_ our business. Your weakness for that Jedi _schutta_ has already cost us a quarter of the fleet.

How much more will it cost? Will you destroy everything we've worked for over a _girl_?"

Revan's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. His hand had already moved to his lightsaber and was gripping it tightly. "Ships are replaceable. So are people. Don't make me replace you."

Malak clenched his fists, clearly struggling to keep his rage under control. "It seems you were already planning to," he muttered darkly.

The two continued to glare at each other in a staring contest only I was privy to witness. Finally, Malak spun on his heel and headed back to the bridge. But not without one last murderous glance in my direction. I looked back at Revan, only to find him now glaring at me.

"Be glad you still have some use to me," he growled. "The moment you don't, I'll be feeding you to my Dark Jedi for their sport."

He grabbed me by the shoulder and steered me down the corridor. One elevator ride and several corridors later, we were back in his interrogation room. The guards stood at attention as we entered, but I could feel their indignation toward me. The sound of flat-lining vital signs met my ears. Revan flicked a switch on the vital signs monitor, making it go silent. I shakily sat down on the table. My body was sweating feverishly, and I felt sick to my stomach. I watched Revan pick up the IV stand from the floor and change the IV. To my dismay, I realized he was going to drug me to sleep again. Though a part of me was grateful for the momentary escape that a drug-induced sleep would provide.

Still, I knew I would awake again and have to face the shame of what I had done. What he had made me do. The Jedi would never want me back. Or so I thought. The Republic...I was now branded a traitor. And perhaps Revan was right. Maybe I did already have the taint of the dark side in my soul. I had stabbed Revan with a dirty fork, for Force's sake! And I enjoyed it. I hated him. I hated the Sith. I even hated the Jedi for...well...for putting me into that situation. For not preparing me better to face my demons. For holding me back, as Revan had said. For giving Revan the ammunition he needed to turn me. As if he already didn't have enough. Forgive me, Masters. Still, the hatred I harbored most was for myself. I had turned into a completely different person—spiteful and arrogant. No, that's not entirely true. I always was this person, and Revan had simply showed me a mirror. Escaping from Revan's grasp would do little to change anything, because I could never escape who I truly was.

Tears stung my eyes. My throat tightened, and I swallowed hard in a vain effort to loosen it. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to hide my tears. Not that I thought Revan cared. Only, I didn't want to humiliate myself any further in front of him.

I felt him pull my arm out. He was oddly gentle about it. I gingerly opened my eyes, averting them down at my arm. He deftly found a vein and plunged the IV needle in.

"I take it you get a lot of practice with IVs while torturing prisoners?" I said, my voice tight.

"No, actually I picked this up in the Mandalorian Wars," he said stiffly.

"Oh." I fell silent. I watched as he applied tape to my arm and attached the vital signs monitor to my finger. Again, his touch was gentle, like I was fine porcelain that could break with too much pressure. It was such a radical change from earlier, it made me take pause. I raised my head, studying him. He looked drained. His anger was at last vented, leaving only tired stress lines under his eyes. He briefly glanced up at me as he released my hand. Turning away, he flicked the vital signs monitor switch back on. The machine beeped a steady rhythm. He moved to the IV, and was about to turn on the drip.

"It's too late, isn't it?" I said. "To change my mind?"

He paused, his gaze averted toward the IV pushbutton switch he held. "Lie down."

I remained seated, unmoving. "I understand why you'd never trust me again. I just..."

He pressed the switch and moved towards me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Lie down," he said, gently pushing me down. I numbly obeyed. Cold metal pressed against my bare back. I felt him clasp the restraints around my wrists and ankles.

"I have nowhere else to go," I said groggily, the drug already making my tongue swollen and my eyelids heavy. I think he put a blanket on me, but I wasn't quite sure.

"Shhh. Yes you do. You can go to sleep."

"Revan..."

"Shhh. Rest."

**.:.**

I stirred in my sleep. Something wasn't right. I felt a searing pain in my arm as the IV was ripped out. I heard my vitals flat-line. I was no longer restrained, but I couldn't feel my limbs anyway. I couldn't open my eyes. I couldn't scream. Two pairs of hands were lifting me by my feet and arms. I willed my eyes to at least partly open. The only glimpse I could catch was a pool of red liquid on the floor, and what looked like the silhouette of a body. It was one of the guards.

My breathing quickened as I realized what was happening. Still, it was all I could do to open my eyes. My would-be abductors put me down on top of some sort of fabric. The only glimpse I could catch of one of them was his uniform. He was one of Revan's own honor guard. Or disguised as one. That much I could tell. I heard the sound of a zipper, and my vision slid to darkness. The fabric now enclosed me. They had put me in a body bag, I think.

They lifted me up and carried me. I struggled to breath in my fabric coffin, but soon slipped back into unconsciousness. Now and again I awoke to different sounds. Busy boots marching, the rumble of an engine, the crackle of a comm.

Full consciousness finally returned. I realized I was in a shuttle. It shuddered as it docked. My two abductors lifted me up once again, but this time I kicked at them and screamed. Unfortunately, they dropped me and kicked me back. And laughed at me. I clenched my jaw, trying in vain to suppress my anger and ignore the pain in my ribs. I let them carry me without further struggle.

They began to carry me at a tilt as they went down the shuttle ramp. Then they flung me onto the floor. The impact knocked the wind out of me. I coughed and sputtered as I rolled onto my side. A heavy boot kicked me onto my back. The body bag zipped apart, revealing the smirking face of one of my abductors. I punched the smirk right off him. My ribs were once again met with a kick from my other abductor.

I rolled onto my hands and knees, coughing. Cold, calloused laughter rang in my hears. And clapping.

I looked up slowly.

Darth Malak.

"Welcome aboard the _Leviathan_, Bastila Shan."


	18. Challenge

**CHAPTER 17 – Challenge**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

Have you ever been in so much pain that your body can no longer process the sensation, and translates it into sound? That's what I think happened. My life was defined by an endless white noise, until I became the white noise, if that makes any sense. Not that it made any sense to me. That's the best I can do to describe the sensation of Force lightning electrifying every nerve in my body.

Not even Revan had demonstrated that kind of power with me. He was always so measured with his abilities, to the point of surgical precision. Not Malak. He didn't hold back.

Finally, it stopped. It seemed like ages, though intuition told me it was mere seconds. I gingerly raised my aching head, breathing hard, sweat dripping into my eyes. Malak's face looked blurred, but I could guess he was sneering at me. I was still dangling by my arms from a beam of the _Leviathan_'s bridge, where his men had left me to hang in front of everyone. Every last ship officer was there on that bridge, including Admiral Karath. Multiple Dark Jedi were gathered as well. Malak had quite a plot in motion to overthrow Revan. And I was key to it.

"My lord," a nervous voice spoke. I recognized the voice as Admiral Karath's. "We're receiving a transmission. It's Revan."

"Just as I thought," Malak said to me. "A Force bond. How predictable." He stroked my chin with a finger, making my skin crawl. "His attachment to you will be his undoing."

He turned to the blurry shape of Admiral Karath, which was finally starting to clear. "Put him on," he said.

A large screen lit up, revealing none other than Darth Revan. He still looked a little blurry, but I could make out his cold, hooded mask. A strange anger filled me. It was an anger not my own. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised. I could feel my connection to him now that my neural collar had been removed. At last I understood why Malak had removed it. To ensure that a message got through to Revan loud and clear. As well as to ensure that Malak's torture didn't melt the collar to my neck, burning it through my jugular vein and killing me in an untimely fashion. Though I'm sure he planned to kill me most painfully later.

The visage that was Darth Revan spoke, the voice modulator in his mask resonating coldly. "You have taken what is mine. Return her, or I will take what little you have that's yours."

Some of the Dark Jedi on the bridge shrank away, but not Malak. Malak boldly stepped toward the screen. "I see I finally have your attention, Revan."

"Do you really wish to challenge me?"

"Do you wish to keep your pet Jedi alive?" Malak raised his arm toward me. White noise filled my ears. And my own screams. And just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.

Revan's angry breathing filled the room. At last, he spoke. "I accept your challenge."

The screen went black, cutting any retort from Malak short. He turned to Admiral Karath. "I want to know the moment any ship lands in the hangar. Once he arrives, activate the hangar shield and lock it down. No one is allowed to leave. I want troops and Dark Jedi waiting for him to land. Have more troops along the way to the bridge. Wear him down."

"My lord," Admiral Karath spoke, "are you certain he will come at all? Surely he will count the girl as a casualty."

"Oh, he will come. It's the Way of the Sith. He has been publicly challenged. And he never backs down from a challenge. Trust me. He will come."

Malak strode back over to me. "And when he comes," he said, "we'll have a welcoming gift for him." He pulled out a needle, poising it to strike behind my head. He leaned close into my ear. "Tell Revan...tell him that Alek is dead."

A hot, stabbing pain plunged into the base of my neck. All I knew was white noise.

**.:.**

I came to with my pulse pounding in my head. I warily opened my eyes. I was back in the hangar, lying on the floor. Dark Jedi stood above me. My hands and feet were bound, and I was once again wearing a neural restraining collar. It didn't matter, though. I didn't have the strength to do anything. Every nerve in my body hurt. Especially in my neck.

So I waited. Not that I was apprehensive over what was about to happen. I didn't really care at that point. It was like two kath hounds fighting over a dead piece of meat, and I was the meat. Honestly, which kath hound would you favor? Well, that's not entirely true. One kath hound might eat me more slowly than the other. Still, Revan would indeed eat me in the end. Everything was about him and feeding his own stomach. However, I must confess I was leaning slightly in his favor.

A rumbling sound alerted me to an approaching shuttle flying a steady course through the hangar door. I craned my neck for a better look and watched as it landed. The Dark Jedi above me stiffened. Soldiers ran up to the shuttle with their blasters raised even as the ramp lowered.

Then out he strode. Darth Revan in his full battle armor and mask. But something seemed...off. There was something different about the way he walked. He was...shaking?

All at once, his strides grew quicker until he all but ran down the ramp.

"Open fire!" shouted one of the Dark Jedi next to me.

"Wait! Please!" Darth Revan fell to his knees, lifting his mask from his face and throwing it aside like it was a diseased thing. "Help me, please! He made me do it!"

The Dark Jedi who had been barking orders now barked another one. "Lower your weapons! Search the shuttle. Make sure no one else is on board." Several soldiers broke off and darted up the ramp.

The Dark Jedi stepped toward the man warily. The man's face was covered in sweat and tears. "What's going on? I demand an answer," the Sith said.

The poor man only raised his hands to block an imaginary blow. "Please, he made me do it."

The Dark Jedi closed the gap between them, motioning the others to come forward. Only two stayed behind to guard me. Roughly, the Dark Jedi grabbed the look-alike Revan's neck. "Tell me now! Why did he send you?"

"Be-because...He wanted me to tell you..."

"Tell me what?"

"To-to...to go to hell."

One of the soldiers behind him froze. "Sir, I think he's wired with a thermal det-"

A loud shock-wave shattered the air. My ears rang. Smoke stung my eyes. I coughed uncontrollably. Over that incessant ringing I heard blaster fire, and the hiss of lightsabers being drawn. Screams layered on top of those sounds like some sick soundtrack. I wanted to crawl away, but the only thing I could do with my hands tied behind me was lie there and wait it out.

Two pairs of arms lifted me off the ground. "Get her out of here!" someone shouted.

And then I saw him. One violet lightsaber paired with a red one parted through the smoke. Trailing right behind was none other than Revan.

One of the Dark Jedi dropped my arm. I looked to see Revan's red lightsaber impaled in his chest. He slumped to the ground in shock. The other Dark Jedi holding me was quick to drop me, and I landed with a painful thud on my side. I raised my head, watching as the Dark Jedi drew his lightsaber. He wasn't alone. Two others ran out of the smoke behind Revan. I could still hear blaster fire and the hiss of sabers in the background, though I wasn't sure what they were fighting.

Revan ducked as a spinning lightsaber flew over his head, narrowly missing his neck. He whipped around, force pushing the owner away. He spun again, his violet blade colliding with another assailant. The one that had dropped me joined in from behind. Yet that did nothing to faze Revan.

How do I describe how he fought? It was like watching a feline predator gracefully running down its prey. His sense of his surroundings was remarkable. But I could tell he was already tired. Despite the explosion, he had had to fight too many to get to me. I watched him worriedly.

One of the Dark Jedi found an opening and sliced his arm. Revan gave an angry growl and whirled on him, dealing him heavy blows until he forced an opening, slicing his head from his neck. Revan turned to face his one remaining opponent, and raised his blade. But his attacker had the momentum, and pushed Revan over, knocking his blade from his hand. I cringed as he swung his lightsaber for the death blow.

He stopped in mid-swing, his mouth hanging agape. Then I noticed the blaster burn through his head, still smoking. He dropped his lightsaber, and fell to the ground.

Revan rose shakily, straightening his black robes. He stretched out his hands, using the Force to retrieve his lightsabers, and clipped the weapons to his belt. At last, he strode over to me. With a wave of his hand, my bindings and collar fell loose. I rose to my knees, gingerly rubbing my neck.

Revan knelt beside me. For the longest time, he just stared at me. Everything in me wanted to turn away from those piercing eyes. Those piercing, accusing eyes. As though all of this was somehow _my_ fault. Then again, I did somewhat have a hand in creating the political situation. I suppose I couldn't entirely blame him. Yet somehow I managed to meet his accusing glare.

I was suddenly aware of the heavy stomp of metal drawing closer. A tin voice met my ears.

"Mournful statement: Oh master! We've run out of traitorous meatbags to kill!"

I looked behind Revan to see the most peculiar droid stomping out of what was left of the smoke. It had crusty red paint peeling off it, and glowing red eyes. I would have thought it was a cheap protocol droid if it weren't for the rifle it was practically petting. An Aratech sniper rifle, if I wasn't mistaken. With a tri-light scope. Of course, I only know that because I once overheard a Republic special ops soldier bragging about his own. Clumsy weapon. I would never touch one in a million years.

"Don't worry, HK," Revan muttered without so much as breaking his gaze. "There are plenty more where those came from." He finally turned his head away toward the droid. "That was a good shot, by the way. I nearly had my head taken off."

"Statement: I am very elated that my superior combat skills and reflexes eliminated the target before it could do you harm, master."

"Superior?"

"Correction: I meant that my skills are superior to those of the dead meatbag target, not to yours, master."

Revan nodded with a light chuckle. "Very well, HK. Please secure the perimeter."

"Acknowledgment: Yes master. Statement: I see there is one other life form remaining in the hangar with us. Query: Do you need me to kill it for you?"

I looked around, wondering who else was in the hangar with us. Then I saw the droid's rifle shift, aiming in my direction. My eyes widened as I realized who the other "life form" was.

"No, HK," Revan said coolly, as though he were patiently explaining to a small child. "Bastila is to be protected, not harmed. Please secure the perimeter."

"Disappointed statement: You are a cruel master, master."

I released the breath I had been holding as the droid stomped away.

Revan turned his gaze back to mine, and our eyes locked.

"Are you all right?" Revan finally asked.

"Where did you get that...that _thing_?" I exclaimed.

"Oh, him? That's HK-47. I built him. He's my, shall we say, personal protocol droid?"

"_Protocol_ droid? Then why in the Corellian hells does it have a weapon?"

"That's more of...an extra feature. I mean, really. What kind of person would build an assassination droid? They're very illegal in Republic space, you know." He gave me the most devilish grin, adding a wink to it.

I just stared at him, dumbfounded and horrified.

Revan gently put a hand on my bare shoulder. "Come on. You're safe now. I want you to get inside the shuttle and stay there."

"You're-you're leaving me here?" I choked.

Revan got up and offered me his hand. I grudgingly took it. "I'm afraid I have to," he said. "You're a liability."

"Can't we just get out of here?"

"In case you didn't notice, the hangar shields are activated. I think it's safe to assume the controls are locked down."

I nodded. "Yes, of course. You're right. I just..."

"Shh. It's okay. I'll just make my way to the bridge, deactivate the shields, and be right back. HK will be nearby."

"Malak's waiting for you," I blurted.

He nodded. "I know. I'm counting on it." The most feral smile spread across his face. It raised the hair on my neck. "Wait here," he said. He began walking toward the hangar entrance.

Then I remembered. "Wait!" I called out. He turned around. "Malak wanted me to tell you something."

"I know," he said. "I figured that's why he left you here. But I don't particularly care to hear his little message." He turned away again and resumed his walk. He was about ready to open the entrance door when I called out again.

"Revan," I said. He froze in his tracks, this time not turning to face me. "What can I expect when you come back?"

He didn't answer me. Instead, he pressed the controls to the door. It slid open. Blaster fire shot through.

"Kriffing...!" Revan dove to the side, slamming the controls. The door slid shut.

He looked back at me. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he muttered. He strode towards me. When he reached me, he firmly grabbed both my shoulders and looked me in the eye. "We have a common enemy, yes?"

I nodded, my brow creasing.

"Would you be willing to put our—our _differences_—aside and help me get to the bridge?"

"You mean bury the hatchet?"

He nodded. "Yes. As long as the hatchet isn't buried in my back."

I laughed nervously. The thought had crossed my mind, but only briefly, I assure you, Masters. "I'd prefer a fork," I said, smirking.

"Of course you do," he said, smirking back.

My brow knit. "Might I ask what that poor man did to deserve being wired with a thermal detonator?"

"He put cream in my caffa. I hate cream." He said it so straight-faced anyone else might have missed the sarcasm.

I nodded numbly. "I'll be sure to remember that."

"Why do you ask now?"

"Just reminding myself that you're still a monster."

"You need a reminder of that? I must be losing my touch." He unclipped one of the lightsabers on his belt and put it in my hand. "Here," he said. "I'd hand you one from one of the corpses, but I know that this one is reliable." He wore the most curiously stern expression. "Never go into battle with an untried weapon."

I nodded. "Right. I-um...mind if I put something on first?"

"But sweetheart, you look so sexy in your lingerie."

I still look back with regret for not at least trying to decapitate him for that remark.


	19. Detour

**CHAPTER 18 – Detour**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

"Would you _please_ look somewhere else?"

"But the view is so lovely in this direction."

I craned my neck to look behind me. He still wore his trademark smirk from the last time I had looked. I pulled the shirt I'd found over my head.

"There," I crowed. "Nothing worth staring at."

"I beg to differ." He tossed me a robe.

I wrapped it around me neatly, buckling a belt around it, and then taking special care to straighten it.

"Oh, for Force's sake! I don't think they care what you look like."

"I care that I'm comfortable while I fight." I sat down, pulling on a boot that I thought would fit me. It had been a bit awkward to pull out the severed leg from it, but somehow I had managed without getting too queasy. "Please don't have athlete's foot," I muttered, pulling on the other boot. At least the matching boot had still been attached to the main corpse.

"Hurry up."

"Oh, relax! Shouldn't you put your armor back on or something?" I got up, brushing off my robes.

"Yes, well, my preferred armor is in dire need of repair."

"Still, don't you need a little more protection than what you've got?"

"I've got some light armor underneath. I'll be fine. Besides, I want to be light on my feet for this. I'll be too tired in all that armor by the time I reach the bridge."

I summoned the lightsaber Revan had loaned me, and clipped it to my belt. "Ready," I said triumphantly.

"About time. Are you sure you don't want to style your hair first or put on some makeup?"

"Shut up." Though I couldn't help but self-consciously pat down the stray strands of my hair.

He snickered. "Come along."

I followed him to the door, his homicidal droid stomping along behind me.

Revan turned to me, his voice dropping to a whisper. "There's about ten soldiers that I saw in the corridor outside. I figure we can each take one side of the corridor and charge them."

"Query: Master, may we use the Jedi meatbag as a human shield?"

I shot the droid a glare. His photoreceptors merely glowed back as he awaited an answer from his master.

Revan chuckled. "No, HK. Although I was thinking of something rather similar."

"Exclamation: No, master! Please, don't reduce me to nothing more than a shield!"

"Yes, HK. Now after you." Revan motioned him to step in front of the door, and hovered his hand over the controls.

"Disappointed statement: You are a cruel master, master."

"I know. I know. But at least you can kill things. Just leave a few for me and Bastila, will you?"

I swear the droid's photoreceptors glowed more brightly at that.

**.:.**

The corridor was a death trap. I swung my red lightsaber wildly, deflecting the torrent of blaster bolts. For all my efforts, I was falling behind. Revan, to my right, was beginning to step a little ahead of me, blocking whatever he could with his violet blade before the blaster fire could reach me. The droid, of course, just stomped ahead, oblivious to it all with his shields protecting him. He moved at a surprisingly fast pace, firing his blaster rifle with inhuman precision at the row of soldiers that were crouching behind whatever they could find for cover. The soldiers' death screams synchronized with the droid's firing pattern.

We were running out of corridor fast. Despite our efforts, however, we weren't running out of trigger-happy soldiers on the other end. It seemed more were replacing them up ahead. When we did reach the end, the remaining soldiers in our way lost their heads. I had the most succinct impression that I should veer left, into the T intersection, and that Revan would go right. The idea didn't seem like my own, but I followed it unquestioningly. There was no time to question. I rounded the corner.

There were a kriffing lot more than ten soldiers. Even more lined the other corridor, crouching from various doorways for shelter. I staggered back, a shot grazing one of my braids. The scent of burnt hair wafted to my nostrils.

"Fall back!" Revan shouted. But I was already ducking back into the corridor from where we'd entered.

We both leaned against opposite sides of the corridor, panting. HK continued to lay down cover fire, peeking his rifle around each corner of the intersection.

"Ten soldiers," I said, still panting. "Can't you kriffing count?"

Revan rolled his eyes. "That was down _this_ corridor. Do you suppose I have X-ray vision?"

To be fair, there were roughly ten bodies stacked along the corridor, plus a few more in the intersection that had replaced their fallen comrades. But I didn't care about fairness at that point.

"Ten. And all you brought was _one_ droid. Couldn't you at least have brought your honor guard?"

"And just how am I supposed to trust any of them? Who did you think brought you to Malak? He's kriffing infiltrated my guard."

"Well if your own guard is betraying you, it's only _your_ fault."

His face darkened. "_My _fault?" he growled. "_You_ created this mess. If you hadn't betrayed me, none of this would be happening right now."

"And if _you_ would show some loyalty to your own men, maybe they would still be loyal to you!"

He pushed off from the wall, closing the space between us, his fist clenching his lightsaber. "Don't you ever-"

"Warning: Master! Dark Jedi are coming."

Both our heads snapped toward the droid.

Revan cursed under his breath. "How many?"

"Analysis: At least ten, coming from the right corridor."

The droid ripped a grenade off the clip at his waist, and flung it around the corner.

"Revised analysis: There are now eight Dark Jedi."

"Hold them off, HK." Revan stared into the corridor wall. I could tell he was calculating. The only sound was the crossfire between the droid and the soldiers. Suddenly, Revan snapped his head toward me.

"Follow me," he said, walking back down the way we had come. "HK, continue to lay down cover fire as long as you can," he called out behind him.

"Just where are we going?" I said, running up behind him.

He slashed his lightsaber across a ventilation covering in the wall. "Get in there," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Now."

"All right! All right!" I knelt down, ready to crawl into a ventilation shaft. Only, as I stuck my head in I realized it didn't quite smell like a ventilation shaft. And it had a long drop.

I withdrew my head. "You can't be serious! I'm not going into that smelly-"

"Get in there! I don't care _what_ you smell!"

"Exclamation: Master, I'm being overrun!" The droid's tinny voice sounded panicked, if that were possible for a droid.

I stubbornly folded my arms.

He gave me the most devilish smirk. "Into the garbage chute, princess." And that's when he shoved me.

It was a long, long plunge.

**.:.**

"Get off me!" I pushed a very filthy Darth Revan off myself.

"Thanks for breaking my fall." He reached down and yanked my arm, pulling me up none too gently from the lake of putrid trash that had broken my own fall.

"Oh, such a gentleman. I might swoon."

A blur of red landed with a titanic splash next to us. A tidal wave of liquid waste and debris washed over us both.

"Ugh! Disgusting!" I cried, wiping the filth from my face as best I could. "I'm going to die of tetanus."

The droid sluggishly rose from the knee-high filth it had fallen into. "Query: May I watch?"

I ignored the droid and turned to Revan. "Fantastic plan, Revan! Just how exactly does jumping headlong into the ship's dumpster help us get to the bridge? And here I thought you were supposed to be the most brilliant military strategist alive!"

"You said the keyword, there, sweetheart. _Alive_. And I intend to stay that way."

"Well it's no use dodging blaster shots if we end up dying of tetanus."

"Look. We don't have time to argue. It's not going to take them too long to figure out where we've gone."

I sighed, exasperated. "Fine. Since you're on a roll with all your brilliant ideas, how exactly do we get out of here?"

He rolled his eyes. "This way," he said.

I followed him, gingerly sloshing my legs through the mire. Every few steps, one of my legs would get sucked into the waste like it was quicksand, and I had to yank it out with both hands and find firmer footing.

"Here," he said. "This chute should lead to the kitchen, I think."

"You _think_?"

"Just get in there."

"No. I'm not having you stare at my-my...bottom...the whole way up."

"You'd rather stare at mine? I knew you were sweet on me." He gave me an infuriating wink.

I rolled my eyes. I made to crawl up into the shaft, but that's when things got worse.

Alarms went off. A yellow warning light on one of the walls flashed furiously.

"Uh oh," Revan said.

"Uh oh?"

"I think they know where we are."

All at once the piles of rubbish buckled. An automated warning crackled on the speakers. "Warning: Commencing garbage ejection. Warning: Commencing garbage ejection."

"Get up there!" Revan yelled.

I scrambled to get my footing atop a pile of trash. The debris was scattering like rocks in an avalanche, and my foot slipped.

"Hurry up!"

"I'm trying!" I yelled back. Revan lifted me partway, allowing me to get into the shaft. I braced my hands on each side. I felt Revan shove my boots, giving me the boost I needed to fully get inside. I frantically began crawling up. I was stalled, however, when I felt Revan grab my leg from behind, using it to pull himself up.

"De-pressurizing chamber."

"Keep moving, Bastila!"

"Then let go of my leg!"

Thankfully, he did let go. I scrambled up, Revan crawling closely behind me all the way, almost on top of my legs. I could hear the clanking of the droid against the shaft walls as he followed us.

A sudden swoosh of air, and the door to the shaft sealed shut behind us. I could hear the air being sucked out of the chamber below. I rested for a moment, heaving a sigh of relief. We stayed there a few moments, allowing the adrenaline rush to subside.

"Come on," Revan said at last. "Let's get moving."

I didn't listen. I didn't want to move. My arms and legs felt too shaky.

"Unless you want me to keep staring at your bottom."

I kicked him in the face. Sorry, Masters, but it felt good.


	20. Hollow Promises

**CHAPTER 19 – Hollow Promises**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

By some miracle, we made it to the other end of the garbage chute without killing each other. Although Revan was muttering a stream of new pet names for me under his breath after I had kicked him in the face. When we reached the top, I carefully pushed up the flap that covered the opening, peering out cautiously. As Revan had predicted, outside was the kitchen.

I caught movement.

"Well, what do you see?" Revan hissed impatiently behind me.

"Shh!" I dropped the flap and peered over my shoulder at Revan. "There's someone out there."

"Just one?"

"Statement: Oh, let me kill it, master!"

"Shh!" We both hissed. I could see the droid's photoreceptors behind Revan dim, almost like he was depressed.

I lifted the flap again, and glimpsed a pair of white trousers. I closed the flap, looking back at Revan.

"Yes," I whispered. "Just one, I think. Looks like the cook."

"All right," Revan said. "Easy enough to handle him."

I swallowed hard. "You're-you're not going to _kill_ him, are you?"

"No, I'm going to ask him to make me an omelet while he alerts the whole ship."

"But he's just a cook! He can't even defend himself!"

"Have you ever heard of a butcher knife?"

"But he's a _cook_!"

"Look, sweetheart," he hissed. "If he so much as screams, and the wrong person hears...We don't know his loyalties."

"We can knock him out, tie him up."

"Whatever we do, we have to do it quickly."

"Promise me first!"

"Promise what?"

"That you won't kill him, of course!"

"Lower your voice!"

"Promise!"

"I can't prom-"

We were rudely interrupted by the flap opening. Our heads snapped upwards. For a few moments, time froze as we gaped at the face of a very stunned cook about to take out the garbage.

"Statement: Master, I cannot fire while your fragile meatbag head is in my line of sight."

My hackles rose as I realized what Revan was about to do. I could hear the air crackling, and I could feel the loose strands of my hair float with static electricity. Through our bond, I could feel Revan tense, ready to strike.

I did the only thing I could think of.

"You really want to make this man an omelet," I said, waving my hand.

"I really want to make this man an omelet," he dazedly repeated, and turned away, the flap flopping closed.

**.:.**

We crawled out of the garbage chute smelling like rotting Rancor corpses. The smell even overpowered the scent of eggs that were already cooking. The droid clanked out behind us, lovingly wiping ooze off his rifle. I subconsciously brushed my robes, and came away with slime sticking to my hands.

"Disgusting," I seethed.

"Come on. Let's keep moving," Revan said.

Revan crept up to the cook, who was tending a pan on the kitchen stove.

"Revan!" I hissed. "Leave him alone!"

Revan's head snapped back at me, giving me a stern glare. He turned back to stalking his prey. It was too late for the cook. The poor man turned to face Revan, the pan in his grip.

"Your omelet is almost...Wait! You're not sup-"

The cook crumpled to the floor, a red imprint of the pan on his temple and a runny omelet on his white shirt. Revan stood over him, the pan hanging from his hand.

"I-I can't believe you just-"

"Shut up and help me lift him," Revan said, laying the pan on a counter. He bent to lift the man by the armpits.

The droid perked up. "Statement: Master, it's not too late to kill him. Shall I wake him up first?"

"No, HK," he said, scowling. "I need you to scout outside. Stay out of sight. Inform us if anyone comes near."

"Affirmative!" The droid stomped off past the double doors leading to the mess hall.

I stared down at Revan, unmoving. "You didn't have to do that," I said.

"It was your idea, remember? Just be glad I didn't kill him. Now we have to waste time locking him up."

I sighed in exasperation, and knelt, lifting the cook by his feet. We steered him to the freezer and laid him down.

"We should find a blanket," I said. "He might get hypothermia in here."

"You want to read him a bedtime story, too?"

He shoved me out of the freezer, and slammed it shut, locking it behind us.

"Let's get out of here," Revan said. "We've wasted enough time already."

I followed him to the kitchen door. Revan spoke into his commlink. "HK, status report."

"Statement: My sensors detect a patrol not far from your location, master. They are heading right for you. Shall I kill them for you?"

Revan looked up at the ceiling with a sigh, deliberating his next move.

"Nagging reminder: Master?"

"HK, I need you to distract them. Lead them away from here, but keep out of sight. Make them think we're with you. We'll rendezvous at the bridge."

"Affirmative. Query: Does this mean I can kill them?"

Revan let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, HK. Just don't get in over your head. Stay out of sight as much as you can."

"Affirmative. Statement: Oh, thank you, master! I look forward to slaying the traitorous meatbags in your name. I-"

Revan flicked off his commlink, rolling his eyes, but smiling slightly. He engaged the locks on the door and turned away.

"Just where exactly are we going?" I said.

"To the bridge, of course." He started scaling the wall, and honed in on a vent on the far side of the room.

"No," I said. "I'm not going back in that dumpster."

"You're right. I thought we could try the ventilation system instead."

I rubbed the back of my neck, kneading out a kink and trying to ignore the rolling throb at the base of my skull. "And what would be the point in that? It's not like they don't know where we're headed. They'll just be waiting for us at the bridge."

"That's not the point. Malak wants me to come out of this injured and weakened. He's just trying to wear me down before he faces me, like a coward. But he won't allow anyone else to steal the credit for killing me."

"Oh, is that why we nearly got taken out with the garbage back there?"

He swung open the cover to the shaft. "Don't get me wrong. If we happen to die along the way, Malak will say I was too weak to outsmart him. But he knows that I will most likely survive. His best hope is to injure me and wear me out. If we make it to the bridge, I will have proven myself still strong. He will have to face me himself, or else no one will follow him. Trust me. They'll let us pass once we get there."

I lowered my head, and uncrossed my arms, beginning to fidget with a dirty corner of my robes. "You never answered my question," I said. "About what you're going to do with me after...after all this." I raised my head, my eyes searching his face for an answer.

"Just...get in there. We can talk later."

"Something tells me there won't be a 'later' after you get your victory."

"Look, we don't have time for this. They could find us at any moment."

I remained standing, crossing my arms again.

He heaved an exasperated sigh. "Listen. I acknowledge that you are my only ally in this. But after what you've done...Don't think for a moment that just because I'm being civil with you right now that all is forgiven."

"Civil? And just how exactly does shoving me into a dumpster qualify as being civil?"

"It's better than you deserve," he said, a scowl darkening his face. "All I can promise you is your life. That's more than Malak will give you. And if I didn't need your ability, I'd give you much worse. Be grateful for your life."

He held my gaze for the longest time. I met it in silence, unwavering. Finally, I spoke. "But what kind of life would it be?"

"Like you said. You have nowhere else to go."

"Well, then, I guess I'll just stay here."

He shook his head, and was about to reply when his commlink crackled to life.

"Warning: Master, they have broken their pursuit and are heading toward your location. Exclamation: I have failed you, master! Query: May I pursue and pick off stragglers from behind?"

Revan cursed. "No. Follow them, but keep your distance. Don't let them know you're there just yet." He turned to me. "They'll be here any moment. I need your help, and you need mine."

"No."

A loud thud came from the door, and shouting voices.

"I promise I'll make your stay as comfortable as I can."

"Not good enough."

I could hear the beeping of a charge on the other side of the door.

"Bastila, this is a far better offer than what you will receive from Malak."

Inside, I knew what he said was true. But I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't go back to that table. I couldn't go back to being drugged and wearing a neural collar. I couldn't go back to being his prisoner. I couldn't go back to being a traitor to the Republic. Would it have been better to die on that ship than continue on like that? I still ask myself that question. Yet despite how things have turned out, I've never been able to come up with a solid answer. But in those moments, something made me want to hope, even though I had nothing concrete to which to cling. Perhaps it was a survival instinct pushing its way to the surface, past all my despair.

"Bastila, please. We can negotiate later. If you want to live, then you need to help me. I don't like it either, but we're in this together."

The beeping rate of the charge increased, indicating the final seconds of its countdown. I made my decision, and stepped toward Revan.

The door blew open, a cloud of smoke billowing into the kitchen.

We drew our lightsabers and charged headlong into the doorway.

We were like two wraiths coming up from the underworld, our weapons giving off an ethereal glow amid the shroud of smoke. But we weren't the only wraiths. Dark Jedi were among the soldiers. We deflected a series of blaster bolts, only to find red blades colliding with our own. We kept our backs to the kitchen, our eyes sweeping past the smoke across the mess hall. Soldiers had overturned tables and were using them for cover. We did all we could to keep the Dark Jedi between us and the snipers. One of our foes was hit by friendly fire, distracting him enough so that I could lop off his head. His comrade likewise lost his focus at that, allowing Revan to sever an arm. But more replaced them. The blaster fire around us intensified. My own arm was singed, causing me to cry out. I gritted my teeth and pressed into my opponent.

"HK!" Revan shouted. "Open fire!"

Rifle shots singed the air. Soldiers collapsed, hit from behind. Some turned around. A red droid was the last thing they ever saw. The distraction was enough for us to find openings in our opponents. The Dark Jedi collapsed. Others behind them took off running in a panic as they realized they had no soldiers left to back them. But the droid was between them and the door. They deflected the droid's fire, only for Revan to throw his lightsaber into one of their backs. The droid threw something at the other one. He disappeared with a bang in a plume of smoke.

At last, all fell silent. We were both out of breath. I looked across the span of dead soldiers and Dark Jedi dazedly.

"HK, you are a magnificent piece of machinery!" Revan beamed.

"Statement: Of course, master. Despite how you are with a hydrospanner."

Revan chuckled at that.

"Boys and their toys," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Come on. The other patrols are sure to be here any moment." He turned back to the droid. "HK, lead off any patrols as before. Make your way to the bridge. And _don't _get in over your head."

"Affirmative. Query: Shall I keep some meatbags alive for you to resuscitate later? I do so enjoy watching you kill them and revive them over and over."

"No. Shoot to kill. There's only one 'meatbag' I'll be punishing in that manner." His expression turned feral, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Revan strode back into the kitchen. I followed suit, rubbing the kink in my neck that had only tightened even more.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

I nodded, and walked toward the vent, ready to crawl in first.

"No," he said, putting his arm out to stop me. "I'll lead the way this time."

"Why?"

"Because I know where I'm going." He pulled out a small torch from his belt. It dimly lit the shaft, but at least it was something.

"And just how do you know that?"

"I had a hand in designing the layout of all our ships."

"I see."

He crawled into the ventilation shaft first. After his feet disappeared, I knelt down, preparing for the worst. At least this time, the air didn't smell like trash. I crawled in. It was a tight fit—just enough room to crawl on my stomach. I closed the vent cover with the Force, hiding the way we had gone. Ahead, I could see Revan's feet dimly lit by his torch.

I crawled a few paces and stopped, rubbing my neck again. Something wasn't right. Dread filled me for what lay ahead. Yet I couldn't pinpoint what exactly was wrong. It was on the tip of my tongue, on the edge of my memory, like a dream you wake up from that you can't quite remember.

"Hurry up," Revan whispered up ahead.

I began crawling again, following him into the fate that awaited us both.


	21. Swallowing Impaired

**CHAPTER 20 – Swallowing-Impaired**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

"We're lost, aren't we?"

"No, we're not lost. I just got turned around a bit."

"We're going in circles."

"Just be quiet and let me think!"

We had been crawling through the ventilation system for who knew how long. Revan had taken quite a few turns. I was careful to make mental notes of them all, but I admit I was having a hard time keeping up with him. Now we were stuck at a T-intersection, waiting for Revan to come to a decision.

"You can always sniff the air," I quipped. "If it smells foul then we know we don't want to go that route again."

"Bastila, did we go left or right at that last four-way junction?"

I paused for a moment, trying to remember. "Right, I think."

"Hmm, I thought so, too. All right. I think I know where we're at. The air is a bit warmer in this direction."

He started to crawl to the left. I followed, the muscles in my arms and stomach complaining. My neck still throbbed, but I pressed on. Hot air beat on my face, causing beads of sweat to drip down my brow. I could only imagine how much hotter it was for Revan, with him in front of me blocking most of the air current. The hot air served to soak our clothing with sweat, making us smell all the worse, like oven-roasted garbage.

After a few more turns, the shaft abruptly ended, opening into vast room. We crawled out, and found ourselves in a large, cylindrical shaft, stretching horizontally in both directions into the bowels of the ship. No doubt this was one of the central airways supplying warm air from the engine room to the rest of the ship, which would otherwise freeze to the absolute-zero temperature of the space outside. Unseen fans somewhere further down the shaft beat the air in a steady current, blowing strands of hair in my face. An array of ventilation shafts lined the walls, similar to what we had crawled out of. I sat down and leaned against the warm wall, exhausted. Revan did the same, and I was grateful he didn't push me onward. Nevertheless, it was not the most ideal place to rest, and soon I was feeling faint from the heat, my neck throbbing even worse.

Despite my near state of heat stroke, I was lost in thought. Something kept bothering me, but I couldn't pinpoint what. At last, I broke the silence. "Revan, do you think you can win?"

He sighed. At first, I thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he finally spoke. "He's a good swordsman. One of the best. It will be close, but...Yes, I can win."

"You don't sound certain."

"Nothing is certain in life. I'm sure he has a few tricks up his sleeve."

That nagging doubt returned to the forefront of my mind. It had something to do with Malak. Something didn't fit.

"Revan, why are you here? I mean, you still have the entire fleet at your command. Why even come aboard and risk your life? Why not just blow the ship up?"

"Isn't it obvious? He took something of mine. I wanted it back."

"Still..."

"He's publicly humiliated me. I intend to do the same to him. I won't have anyone calling me a coward."

"There's more to it than that, isn't there? Malak said-"

"I don't care what he said."

"Well maybe you should start."

His head snapped up. "And maybe you should mind your own business," he growled.

I met his glare, undeterred. "It _is_ my business. The moment you took me prisoner, it became my business. The moment Malak abducted me, it became my business. And the moment you asked me to help you, it became my business."

I paused for a moment, fearing I had crossed a line with him. He merely held my gaze with a frown. Then I realized I didn't care anymore. Like a dam ready to burst, it all came out in a torrent, and suddenly I couldn't stop myself.

"You treat people like they're nothing but objects. We're just pawns in your game. Then you just throw us away as soon as you have no further use for us."

"Are you finished?"

"No, I'm not. I'm just getting started. Your honor guard. They were beyond loyal to you, and their only reward was a torturous death. Malak was once your friend. Look how you've treated him. You belittle him in public, you-"

"That's enough!" He leaned toward me dangerously. "You know _nothing_ about me, or Malak. You don't have the right-"

"I _do_ have the right. He's betraying you for a reason, and it's not because he's disloyal. It's because _you_ are."

Revan stood up, towering over me, his fists clenched. For a moment I feared he might harm me, but he just stood there, fuming, the hot air current whipping his clothes.

"Malak told me to tell you something, Revan. I think it's important that you hear it." I paused, waiting for a reaction. Revan just remained standing, still glowering at me. I swallowed hard. "He said to tell you that Alek is dead."

His scowl turned to a puzzled expression.

I stood up, rubbing my sweaty neck. "There's more. He...he told me that you were attached to me. That it would be your undoing."

His expression turned back to a scowl.

"Revan?"

He held my gaze, but didn't respond.

I don't know why I asked the question I did next. I knew I didn't want to hear the answer. I still regret it. But for some reason I just had to know, Masters. "Revan, are you...attached...to me?"

What really horrified me was the fact that Revan didn't answer me. He just kept holding my gaze in stony silence.

And that's when it all finally made sense to me. He had wanted to keep me so close to him even _after_ I had agreed to join him. He had been so personally angry at me for trying to escape. He had punished his honor guard so severely for allowing me to get as far as I had. He hadn't tortured me after coercing me to betray the Republic. He had simply tucked me to sleep like it had never happened. It all made sense. It all finally made sense. Only, I didn't think it possible that a Sith Lord could actually _love_ someone. Certainly not that. No, whatever he felt would have been more of a clingy, possessive emotion—one that would keep me a prisoner forever, bound to a table and drugged. I would truly be the 'object' of his affection, and not a person with the freedom to respond how I wished. I wondered at what point his affection for me had begun. But, then again, I had always known. There was all his talk about my being a "kindred spirit." And he hadn't been flirting with me for nothing. I had merely thought it an amusing sport for him, but now I could see that it had become far more serious. I should have seen it coming. Rather, I did see it coming, but I had kept denying what was really going on. A shiver ran down my spine. The throbbing in my neck turned to a pounding.

"Revan," I said, my voice trembling, "you don't honestly think that I-I could ever..."

He continued to silently hold my gaze, the corner of his mouth slightly dropping into a deeper frown.

"I mean, you're a _Sith Lord_! And after all you've done...How could I..."

He stalked past me.

"Revan! Revan, wait!" I called after him. But it was no use. I got up and followed after him, making my away along the shaft. Revan halted at a maintenance door and was about to open it.

"Revan, please. I-" A stabbing pain speared through my neck, and I doubled over, my hands clutching the base of my skull. I felt two hands grip my shoulders.

"Revan, he did something to me," I gasped. "When I was on the bridge. He put something in my neck."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I'd forgotten all about it. But it's getting worse."

"Let me look at your neck." Revan moved behind me, his thumbs rubbing the sore area at the base of my skull. "I don't understand," he said. "Did he say what it was?"

"No. Wait. He said it was a...a welcoming gift...for you."

"I'm going to leave you here, all right? You're in no condition to-"

"No, I think I'm okay. It's starting to feel better."

"We're almost at the bridge. Can you stand?"

"Yes. Yes, I can stand." He helped me up, and I leaned against him for balance. I took a few uncertain steps. The ache in my neck was finally subsiding. I looked back at him and nodded in reassurance.

He still looked doubtful. "Are you sure you can make it?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "Give me my lightsaber back. I doubt you'll need it anyway. Just keep behind me."

I nodded again, rubbing my neck. I unclipped my borrowed lightsaber and handed it to him.

"Let's go," he said. He punched the control panel on the door. It slid open with a hiss. "Whatever he did to you, he will pay dearly for it," he growled, and stepped through.

**.:.**

The corridor was narrow, but thankfully clear of personnel. It led to a main passageway. And it was much, much cooler. Revan peered out into the passageway, making sure all was clear.

He spoke into his commlink. "HK, status report."

At first there was no reply, and then finally a burst of static broke through. "Statement: Master, I am at the elevator on the bridge level. I have dispatched anyone in your way on your own level. The rest have retreated to the bridge."

Revan turned to me. "All right," he whispered. "The elevator is not far from here. We'll take it to the bridge. Once there, I want you to stay with HK."

"No, I'm not leaving you."

"This is between me and Malak. HK can protect you. At least as long as I'm alive. If Malak wins, you won't be protected either way. But I want you out of harm's way."

"Revan, whatever Malak did to me...I think I'm already in harm's way."

"Yes, well, putting you in physical proximity of him isn't going to help matters. He wants to use you as a distraction, and I'm not about to let him do that."

I nodded.

"All right. Let's move out," he said.

We headed into the main passageway. Sure enough, Revan's droid had performed his duty impeccably. A few soldiers and Dark Jedi littered the floor here and there. We made a few turns and at last found ourselves at the elevator. Revan punched the controls to the side. He drew out both his lightsabers, readying himself. The elevator at last reached our level, its doors opening with a swoosh. Fortunately, no one was inside.

"After you," Revan said, clipping his lightsabers to his belt.

We entered, and Revan punched the controls for the bridge. As the elevator slowly rose, he began to riffle through his pockets. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a stim pack and injected himself. He gingerly touched the side of his arm, where a Dark Jedi had slashed it back in the hangar.

He winced. "That will have to wait a little longer," he muttered.

"Are you sure you're all right?" I asked.

The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening. Revan ignored my question, and stepped through. I followed, the doors closing behind me. The droid was waiting for us, his photoreceptors glowing in recognition of his master. The doors to the bridge were visible across the corridor.

"Statement: Master, I am pleased to see you have arrived unharmed. Disappointed statement: I see the Jedi meatbag has also arrived unharmed. Query: May I use her for target practice later?"

"No, HK," Revan said, rolling his eyes, albeit with a smirk. "I want you to protect her at all costs."

"Resignation: As you wish, master."

He turned to me. "Stay here," he said.

I was about to object, when the doors to the bridge opened. Both our heads whipped around to face this new development.

Out strode a sizable host of Dark Jedi, soldiers, and officers. I recognized their faces from my earlier time on the bridge, including the face of Admiral Karath. But it was the tall man in the center that drew my attention. It was none other than Darth Malak.

I could sense Revan reaching for his lightsabers at his belt without even having to look at him. The droid raised his rifle, poised to fire. Revan raised a hand—a lightsaber within its grip—silently signaling him to stand down.

"Whatever happens," Revan whispered to me, his eyes never leaving Malak's, "don't interfere."

I swallowed hard, and nodded.

The group halted in the center of the corridor. Malak separated himself from them, taking confident strides toward Revan.

"You've come," Malak said smoothly. "But I see you were trying to come alone. I much prefer it otherwise."

"You can dispense with the pleasantries, Malak," Revan spat. "You challenged me, and I accept. Whoever walks away from this fight will be the Dark Lord of the Sith." He peered past Malak at the gathered procession. "And you traitors had better pray it's Malak."

A few feet shuffled. Admiral Karath loosened his collar. But Malak...he just stood there, unperturbed.

"Revan," Malak said, "they are not the traitors here. You are. You have become weak. You have betrayed our strength and allowed the Republic to crush us. All out of sentiment for a Jedi girl."

"You leave her out of this," Revan hissed. "This is between you and me. No one else."

"Oh, I will leave her out of this. But can you?"

Malak charged, his duel-bladed lightsaber igniting in a flash of red. But Revan was ready. He charged forward, meeting him in the center of the corridor, his red and violet lightsabers hissing alive. The two clashed their weapons together, each pressing against the other in a show of strength, each unwilling to give ground. Finally, they both broke apart, breathing hard. They began circling each other for several moments, each studying the other, waiting to expose any weakness.

But I knew Revan. He was patient. But he always struck first. Malak, however, was not so patient. Which is why when he moved forward toward Revan to end the waiting game, Revan finally found the opening he had been waiting for. He charged, rushing in an arc toward Malak, who stumbled as he turned in mid-stride to face Revan. Malak swung his lightsaber up, deflecting a blow. Revan whirled with his other lightsaber to strike at Malak's side, but was easily deflected. The two parted again, and resumed their watchful circling.

Malak once again stepped forward, but it was a feint. Revan charged to meet him just as Malak stepped aside. It happened so fast, in a whirl of red. One of Revan's lightsabers flew to the wall. Revan jumped away, clenching his teeth and circling Malak with a slight limp in his leg where Malak had landed a blow. Malak would not give Revan room to retreat, however. He closed in on him. Revan desperately swung his remaining lightsaber to deflect a strike from Malak. Malak mercilessly drove him back toward me and the droid.

That's when Revan finally had enough of the lightsaber duel, and stepped it up. Lightning arced from his free hand.

A white, hot pain seared through my neck and into my skull. I doubled over in pain and confusion. I heard a woman's scream, and vaguely realized it was my own. Just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. I found myself on my knees, and looked up to see the shocked face of Revan looking over his shoulder at me. His shocked expression quickly turned to one of dread. He snarled and whipped his head back toward Malak.

"What have you done to her?" he hissed, rage permeating his every word.

Smoke still rose from Malak's armor. His duel-bladed lightsaber was still drawn and ready, but was now visibly shaking. "You always want to win and have your way, Revan. Even at your friends' expense—at _my _expense! But no more. At last, you are going to lose no matter what you do. I won't die without taking that Jedi schutta with me."

Revan looked back over his shoulder at me. I could only read one thing in his eyes. A wordless "I'm sorry."

My heart stopped in my chest. I was a dead woman. He would sacrifice me to regain his power, without question. Battle Meditation or no, I was expendable. Just another casualty in his war. At least, that's what I thought as I stared back at him. Revan turned his head away, and I let my eyes drift back to Malak. He was sneering at us.

That was the last time he would ever sneer, and the last thing I would remember before I was engulfed in the most horrible pain I have ever felt.


	22. Peace is an Intravenous Muscle Relaxant

**CHAPTER 21 – Peace is an Intravenous Muscle Relaxant**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The pain in my neck finally subsided to waves, almost like a person breathing in and out, but breathing sharply nonetheless. I could hear myself screaming with each crest. The taste of tin filled my mouth—I think I had bitten my tongue.

Revan's voice was yelling threats and expletives. Something about a medic. That much I could make out. After what felt like an eternity later, I felt myself being lifted onto a gurney. Strong arms grabbed my wrist. I struggled in vain, writhing in pain and panic. A needle pricked my arm. Anesthesia claimed me. The pain in my neck fell to a dull throb. I slipped in and out of consciousness, aware of lights in the ceiling blinking in and out of view, more expletives and threats, and...someone holding my hand, I think, telling me I would be all right. Then suddenly my surroundings changed, and I could feel the rumble of engines. I had boarded a shuttle. I drifted out completely at that point, though oddly enough even in the blackness of unconsciousness I could still feel my neck throbbing.

When I came to, I was lying on my stomach, with my face in some kind of hole. All I could see was a floor below me. Cold metal clasped around my head and neck, keeping it immobile. At last, the throbbing was gone, replaced now by numbness.

"Bastila, can you hear me?" It was a woman's voice. "I need you to hold still. Try to relax. You're going to be fine."

I sluggishly moved my mouth, trying to speak. My tongue felt like lead, and my cheeks and lips like they were swollen, though I instinctively knew that it was only the effects of anesthesia. "Wur am I?" I slurred.

"Shh, try to relax. I need you to tell me if you feel any pain at all. Okay?" I vaguely felt a cold, tickling sensation in my neck. "Does that hurt?"

"Nuh," I said.

"Good."

A voice crackled ethereally through the air, coming from seemingly nowhere. "Doctor, may I remind you that if you are not confident that you can remove the nanolink without causing harm-"

"My lord, I cannot come even close to disabling the nanobots without finding where they burrowed first. To do that, I have to probe."

"Nah-oh-boss?" I exclaimed. I didn't like the sound of anything "burrowing" into my neck.

"Your husband and daughter live on Ryloth. Is that not correct?" I finally placed the voice as Revan's, and realized that he must have been using an intercom.

"Whas in my neh?" I asked, beginning to panic.

"Lord Revan, if you don't want her to come out of this paralyzed, then may I respectfully suggest that you not say things that would make my hands shake?"

I could hear Revan let out an exasperated sigh that the intercom speakers translated as static.

"Whas in my neh?" I repeated.

"Hush," the doctor cooed. "Try to relax. Malak injected you with nanobots. My scans show that they've replicated into a cluster and burrowed into your neck somewhere around C-1."

"Wha?" I really didn't like the sound of an entire "cluster" of these things "burrowing."

"It's nothing to worry about. They form a link between you and Malak's brain. When he feels pain in any way, the nanobots send an electrical shock into your neck. Even though we've sedated him, the nanolink itself isn't susceptible to anesthesia. That's why we have to administer anesthesia to you as well."

"He's nuh ded?"

"No," Revan interjected over the intercom. "There's a kill switch in the nanolink. If he dies, the nanobots will electrocute you to death."

"Vanthasthic."

"I thought so. I wish I had thought of it myself."

"Both of you, hush," the doctor said. "Now Bastila, I'm about to probe again. I want you to tell me if anything hurts. That would be the nanobots reacting to the probe."

I felt a cold, tickling sensation in my neck again.

"Anything?"

"Nuh."

"How about here?"

"Nuh."

Suddenly it felt like a spike had stabbed through my neck. The tickling sensation turned into a burning pain that spiraled down my spinal cord.

"Gah! Meh!"

"Okay, okay. I think we've found it."

"Can you remove it safely?" Revan asked.

I could hear the doctor sigh heavily. "They're on her C-1 cervical nerve that comes out between the skull and C-1 vertebra. By the looks of it, I'd say the nanolink wouldn't serve any purpose burrowing any deeper. I suspect it's the kind of illegal technology that Czerka might sell to the Hutts. Assuming that Malak used it for its intended purpose, I don't think it's burrowed into her brain or spinal cord, as that would do unintended damage. The brain wouldn't feel it anyway. This is good news. But I'm afraid it's the only good news."

"If you don't think you can do this-"

"I'm just saying that there are too many unknowns. I can't guarantee you anything at this point, other than that I will do my very best."

"I don't want your best. I want results."

"Look. I'm the only neurosurgeon in your fleet here. Even if you conscript another surgeon from the nearest hospital, it might not be in time. I wouldn't recommend waiting to get another one. Who knows what effect it would have if the nanolink were embedded too long? And...I'm worried the kill switch is on a timer. Worse yet, I don't think I can use an EM pulse to disable them because of it. They're probably shielded, and attempting to disable them like that might trigger one last jolt into her."

Revan sighed. "A timer. That would make a lot of sense."

"Yes. Which is why I need to get to work on this right away."

"How long will it take?"

"At least two hours. They have to be sort of 'scraped' with an electromagnetic scalpel, and I'll have to probe again to make sure I got them all."

My breathing quickened. I had a bad feeling I would have to be awake through the whole thing.

"Bastila," the intercom crackled, "you're going to be fine. I'll be here the whole time." It was like he felt my anxiety. He was showing..._compassion_.

"Wur are you?" I asked.

He laughed. "I'm in the next room. I can't come in. We have to keep the operating room sterile, you know. But I'll be watching over you. I promise to avenge you if the good doctor makes a slip of the hand."

"Muh?" That's as long as his "compassion" lasted. I still can't believe he'd make a remark like that when I was already anxious enough.

"My lord, with all due respect, don't you have several injuries of your own to tend to?"

"I understand, doctor. I wouldn't want your hands to shake with all my hovering."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Please keep me apprised of her condition. And..."

"Yes?"

"I'll do what I can to keep the fleet out of combat. Wouldn't want the ship to shake."

"Muh." I could feel tears trickling down my cheeks. Reminding me that the Republic fleet could return at any moment, even in jest, did not make me feel at ease. Masters, I was scared senseless.

"I'm sorry," Revan said, sensing the emotion coming from me. "Don't worry about a thing, Bastila. I've already sent a task force to harass the Republic. They should be kept busy for a while."

"Yood do tha fo me?"

"Consider it Admiral Karath's punishment," he said, dodging my question. "I thought a suicide run would be appropriate for him."

"All right, you two," the doctor said. "I need to get started. And Lord Revan, if you would please send in an extra medical droid, I'd appreciate it."

"Yes, of course." He paused for a moment, his breath trembling through the intercom. "Let me know as soon as you're done."

"I will. I promise."

"Rebban," I said, feeling even more apprehension at the thought of his leaving. I don't know why, Masters. Perhaps it was because he was the only person I knew. The only anchor I had left. My heart rate spiked, and I heard a monitor beeping at an increased rate.

"Shh. Just recite that Code of yours, Jedi."

"Der is nuh emoshun," I muttered.

"That's right. There is peace." I thought his voice cracked, but it was probably just the intercom speaker.

"Let me give her some relaxant," the doctor said.

The beeping on the monitor slowed. I felt almost...happy. I had the silly notion that years of reciting the Jedi Code had never made me feel nearly as calm and as peaceful as a shot of intravenous, pre-surgery muscle relaxant. Forgive me my insolence, Masters. I was drugged.

"Okay, Bastila," the doctor said. "Tell me when it hurts."

Suddenly I didn't feel so peaceful anymore.

**.:.**

The operation lasted more like five hours rather than two. The doctor's progress slowed exponentially as she went along. Something about the cluster being spread out. She would probe, I would yelp in pain, and then she would scrape with her electromagnetic scalpel, which made me yelp in even worse pain. She said she couldn't give me any more localized anesthetic, because she needed to know if she was "hot" or "cold" in finding every last nanobot.

At last, she felt confident that she had removed the entire cluster and any "loose" nanobots. She gave me more localized anesthetic, and stitched up my neck, before applying kolto to the area. The last sensation I remember before falling asleep was the soft pressure of a cotton bandage being pressed against my neck.

My eyes fluttered open hours later. I was lying on my back, the steady beep of a vital signs monitor letting me know my heart was still beating. My tongue still felt a little thick, but my cheeks and lips no longer felt swollen at least. My throat felt parched, however.

"You're awake," a voice said. Revan's face hovered into view. I felt him take my hand in his own. "How are you feeling?"

"Water," I rasped.

"Yes, of course." He disappeared from view, and returned moments later with a pre-packaged water container. He pressed a control to the bed to elevate me to an upright position, and held the straw for the water to my lips. I awkwardly sipped, water dribbling down my chin. Revan wiped it with a tissue. I closed my eyes. The pillow was rather hard, and the sheets scratchy—typical of a medical bay.

"Better now?" Revan asked.

I nodded. "Thank you," I whispered. Revan was gently stroking my wrist with his thumb, but for some reason I didn't care. I was too groggy to care. I let that small gesture lull me back to a sleepy haze. My head lolled to the side, and my eyes slightly opened to catch a glimpse of a metal bar, and something attached to it. My eyes lazily followed it to my wrist. I lifted my head up, my eyes widening. I was handcuffed to the bed rail.

I nervously looked back at Revan. I could hear the vital signs monitor beeping faster, matching with the increased pounding in my chest. "Wha-?"

"Shh. Lie back down. You need to rest."

I obeyed, and laid my head back down on the hard pillow, my heart still pounding in apprehension.

"You'll have to pardon the restraints," Revan said. "I didn't want you to try stabbing me with a used needle next."

I couldn't help but give him a wry smile. His humor somehow calmed me, and the monitor returned to beeping at a lazy rate.

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

"You've been out for nearly two days."

"Two _days_?"

"Yes. The doctor wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You actually have woken up a few times, but you were in a lot of pain when you did. So she decided to keep you sedated. It was probably for the best. You needed to hold your neck still while it healed, and you were panicking every time you woke up. She only took your neck brace off a few hours ago."

"Hmm, I wonder why I would be panicked," I quipped, jiggling the handcuffs.

"A necessary precaution," Revan said.

"Then why isn't my other hand cuffed?"

"Because I'm holding it." He gave me a warm smile that unsettled me.

"Is...is Malak still alive?" I asked, doing my best to ignore that uneasy feeling in my gut.

He nodded.

"What exactly did you do to him?"

"Let's just say I wiped the smirk off his face." I would have expected him to give me a wicked, satisfied grin, but he surprised me by frowning instead. "You should get some rest," he said. "I'll have the medical droid bring by some food. You must be famished."

"How long will I be here?" I asked.

"The doctor says you'll make a full recovery, but you need to rest. She insists on at least 24 more hours in bed, and that's with regular kolto injections."

"I see."

"She'll be here in a few hours to check on you. HK is keeping watch outside your room. Just holler for him if you need to see me. He'll comm me."

He released my hand and made to get up, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Revan, am I...will I...be going back...to the interrogation table?"

He shook off my hand. "We can discuss that later. Get some rest."

"You said that earlier. It's 'later' right now."

He sighed, and sat back down next to the bed. "Look. The only reason you're not wearing a neural collar right now is because the doctor insisted. In the meantime, you're to be on a steady IV drip to keep you subdued. The only difference between my interrogation table and that bed is the pillow and sheets. Just be glad I'm allowing you to stay awake rather than completely sedated."

I looked down at my free hand, fidgeting with the sheet.

"Bastila, even if you say all the right words, I don't know if you can be trusted. I...I need more than your word. You must understand that. And while you did help me with Malak, I'm afraid it's not nearly good enough."

"Isn't the fact that I have nowhere else to go good enough for you? That I've betrayed the Republic? That they'll never take me back now?"

"You were coerced. Would you do it again of your own free will? Could you revel in it?"

"Since when did I have free will?" I muttered. "As long as you keep me here, my will is really yours."

His face darkened. "Go to sleep," he said gruffly, rising to his feet. "And I suggest you think really hard on your options. Because your future choices will determine whether I am inclined to chain you to my interrogation table again."

"Revan?"

He turned back to me.

"Why isn't Malak dead yet?"

At last that wicked grin I had expected earlier spread across his face. "Goodnight, Bastila."


	23. Never Say No to Darth Revan

**CHAPTER 22 – Never Say No to Darth Revan**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

I slept uneasily. When I awoke, my eyes blearily saw someone standing over my bed, reading a chart. I was confused at first as to who it was.

"You're awake," a familiar, feminine voice said.

I blinked a few times, willing my eyes to focus. Her profile sharpened, two lekku coming into view.

"I'm your doctor," she said. "I'm just here to check up on you and give you your kolto injection. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks."

"Think you can sit up on your own?"

I nodded, and gingerly pushed myself up. The bed was already somewhat elevated, so it wasn't too difficult a task.

"All right. Let me just look at your neck." She snapped on a pair of latex gloves, and began feeling the bandaged area out. "No pain?"

"Just a little sore."

"Hmm. Very normal." She peeled off the bandage, and disposed of it. Her hands returned to my neck as she peered at her handiwork. "Scar's already fading. You should be in tip-top shape very soon."

"Good to know."

I watched her search through a drawer. She pulled out a vial and syringe.

"So, you're from Ryloth?" I asked, trying at conversation.

"Mmm hmm."

"And you have family there?"

She looked up sharply. "Look, I'm not really interested in chit-chat. I'd prefer to just stick to business, if you don't mind."

"Sorry. Just making conversation."

She sighed. "It's nothing personal. It's just...You may be nice now, but that could change in a few hours, a few days at the most. Which is why I'd like to keep my personal life, and the details of my family, to myself. It's bad enough Revan knows where to find them."

My jaw dropped. "I-I would never..." I trailed off.

She unwrapped the syringe and plunged it into the vial, drawing the kolto from it. "This won't hurt a bit."

She had lied, of course. My jaw clenched so hard that I thought my teeth would surely crack. Finally, she withdrew the needle, and began applying a fresh bandage.

I knew she wanted to just finish and get on with her day, but my curiosity got the best of me. "Doctor, may I ask..."

"What?" I could hear her rip off a piece of tape. She pressed the tape to my neck, securing the bandage.

"Why do you follow him?"

She took a step back. "Is this some sort of test? Did he put you up to this?"

"No! I just...Look, I haven't had anyone to talk to other than him. And you're the only person I've seen around here so far who can get away with telling him no."

She vainly tried to smother the sound of her laughter with her sleeve.

"What? What's so funny?"

She cleared her throat, composing herself. "I'm sorry. It's just that I hear I'm not the only one getting away with telling him no. One of my colleagues said you gave him quite an injury. A fork, was it?"

I couldn't help but give a wry smile. "I wouldn't exactly say I got away with it." My smile dropped as I remembered the price I had paid. No, the price the Republic had paid. And Revan's honor guard.

"All right," she said. "I'll tell you why I follow him." She crossed her arms, looking down momentarily to collect her thoughts, her lekku twitching. She finally looked back to me. "Years ago, a philanthropist sponsored me to go to med school. A good man. Did a lot of kind things like that for my people. Had his own charity organization and fund-raisers. Anyway, I was a just a poor Ryloth girl, and I had a dream of coming back to my people to help them. Our science isn't great, you know. Can't even get into space on our own, so it was the chance of a lifetime.

"I came back from school, got married. Had my daughter. Then the Mandalorian Wars broke out in full swing. There was a battle near our system. It's the middle of nowhere. When the Republic fleet heard there was a neurosurgeon on Ryloth, they practically conscripted me from my home. I wasn't sure why they needed me, specifically. It's not like they didn't have their own doctors. But I soon found out they didn't have one with the specialty they needed. Not for the injuries he had."

"Revan," I breathed.

"Yes. Apparently, the Mandalorians had ambushed a task force of Republic ships. They boarded Revan's. He ended up in quite a firefight. A thermal detonator went off. He took shrapnel to his back. If it weren't for me, he'd probably be paralyzed or worse. It was a very tricky surgery. Only a neurosurgeon could have pulled it off, and even then it's no small miracle he's walking today. I'm not bragging, or anything. It took me seventeen hours to get it all out. It was by no means trivial. He's very lucky to be where he's at today. After his recovery, he offered me a place in the fleet with top pay. My family's not rich, you see. And I saw it as a way to pay for medical supplies for my people after the war was over.

"That's when things took a bad turn. I was with his fleet when he hunted the Mandalorians in the Unknown Regions. Once he declared himself the Dark Lord of the Sith, there was no turning back. People...some tried to leave. A few colleagues of mine...their families..."

She hung her head as she trailed off. An uneasy silence stretched between us. At last I broke it.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

She looked up. "No. You have nothing to apologize for. Look, I'm not telling you this because I need a shoulder to cry on or anything. I'm telling you to warn you. Revan might show you favor now, but that might not last."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that," I said.

"No. You don't understand. You haven't seen his bad side first hand. He hasn't tortured you yet. I've seen a lot of Jedi on my operating table. Jedi that Revan wanted turned. Jedi that Malak had 'accidents' with, that he got too angry with while interrogating. The ones from Malak are always bad, but Revan's...I don't know how to describe what Revan does. What he does is so precise, so deliberate...You don't want to test Revan's patience. I don't want to see you back on my operating table. Take it from me. Give him what he wants up front. As much as I hate seeing good Jedi being turned into Sith...I think the alternative is worse."

Her gaze was hard. Deep within, I shuddered.

"Well, you're all patched up," she said at last. "I'll see you in a few hours."

She left me to my thoughts. And they were dark thoughts indeed.

**.:.**

We settled into a routine. I would sleep uneasily for a few hours. The doctor would come in and inject me with kolto, sparing me only a few words in greeting. A droid would bring some broth to eat before I nodded off again. Finally, by evening, the doctor declared I no longer needed kolto injections and said that I would be released in the morning.

With dread, I wondered what morning would bring. I knew I had a decision to make. Could I really do it? Could I serve Revan? It seemed I had no choice, Masters. I felt I had nowhere to go, that the Republic would hang me, that the Jedi wouldn't want me back. I was a traitor. And I knew the doctor was right. Whatever favor Revan had extended me thus far would vanish if I continued to resist him. Fear gnawed at me. I sank into depression. I knew if I were tortured, I would likely fall to the dark side. I already felt myself slipping away. Sleep mercifully claimed me in tears, and only because I was still being drugged to keep my connection to the Force suppressed.

When I awoke the next morning, Revan was sitting quietly by my bed, reading from a datapad. He heard me shift, and glanced up.

"Good morning," he said.

"Darth Revan," I said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He gave me a lopsided smirk. "Are you finally admitting that you find my company pleasurable?"

"No, just wondering why you'd be sitting next to my bed rather than, I don't know, planning and plotting your next battle."

"What? Can't I multitask?" He waved his datapad at me.

"Ah. I see."

"Would you like breakfast?"

I scrunched my nose. "No more broth, please."

"No, no. I had something much more solid in mind. We must keep you strong for the torture."

My eyes widened.

He snickered. "Relax. You should have nothing to worry about. As long as you're compliant. And you will be compliant, won't you?"

I swallowed hard, unable to answer.

He leaned forward. "Why don't we get that question answered right now?"

He rose from his chair. With a wave of his hand, the handcuffs fell from my wrist. He removed the IV from my arm, applying a bandage to the area. I nervously sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. That's when I remembered just how humiliating hospital gowns were. I awkwardly tried to keep the back of my gown closed.

"Get dressed," he said, taking a pile of clothing from another chair and flopping it onto the bed.

"In-in front of you?"

He rolled his eyes. Seeing I wouldn't budge, he shook his head and walked out of the room. I hurriedly threw on the clothes, though I had some trouble balancing myself as I still felt groggy from the drugs.

I followed Revan outside. He quietly led me down the main corridor of the medical bay, into another room. My heart stopped when I saw who was within it.

Malak.

But that wasn't the worst part. When I saw his face...what was left of it...I retched. Revan didn't even have the decency to allow Malak's face to be bandaged. He had no jaw, and his upper teeth were singed. Just a gaping hole was all that was recognizable of his throat. His face was oozing puss, clearly infected. He wheezed in pain. I retched again.

"Told you I wiped the smirk off his face," Revan said.

I looked at him in horror, but even his own face looked somewhat pale at the sight. I had a feeling he might have retched himself seeing Malak like that for the first time. As battle-hardened as I'm sure Revan was, seeing someone you personally know in such a condition...

I watched as Revan stepped toward the IV drip, and adjusted it. Malak suddenly became aware of his surroundings, the drugs fleeing his veins. A horrified gurgle escaped his throat as he shrank back into his bed away from Revan. He raised his arms in a vain effort to protect himself, almost as a plea for mercy.

Revan just stood there, pitiless, for several moments. Albeit, his face still looked pale. At last, he turned away and walked over to me, unclipping a lightsaber from his belt. I numbly looked him in the eyes, feeling him place it into my hands.

"Do it," he said. "Strike him down, and take his place by my side." A small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. His eyes were confident. He was so...sure.

That's what made me snap. "You think you've turned me already, don't you?"

His smirk widened. "What choice do you have?" He turned away, making to leave the room. "Don't come out of this room until it's done."

I called out to him just as the door slid open. "You're not going to watch?"

He froze, his shoulders stiffening, his gaze aimed at the floor.

My eyes narrowed. "You coward," I hissed. "You can't do it yourself, can you? Well, guess what, Revan? I'm not going to do your dirty work." I threw his lightsaber into the wall beside him. It clattered to the ground.

A long moment passed. I froze in terror, realizing what my temper might have cost me. At last, he stormed toward me, and grabbed me by the shoulders.

"Is that your decision, Jedi?" he snarled. "Is that what you really want?"

As I met his glare, a new determination filled me. "You may not think I have a choice," I said, "but I do. It may very well be the last one I'll ever have, but I'm not going to let you make it for me. I know I'll probably fall if you torture me, but if I'm going to fall I can still choose to fight you all the way."

Tears stung my eyes, even as my voice crescendoed into steel. His eyes widened ever so slightly in...in shock. He wasn't used to being told no. Especially not repeatedly.

Finally, his eyes narrowed, and I knew he was going to give me the reprisal I feared.

"Lord Revan!" A voice from outside the room intruded on his dark plans for me.

Revan shoved me to the ground and turned to meet the man who had dared to interrupt him. "I had thought I had made it clear I was _not _to be disturbed."

A soldier came into view. "Forgive me, my lord. It's an emergency. Your commlink was off."

"Out with it," Revan said menacingly.

"Admiral Karath's task force has returned, sir."

"He wasn't supposed to come back."

"Sir, he says the Republic fleet is almost here."


	24. Catch and Release

**CHAPTER 23 – Catch and Release**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

Masters, I have to confess something. When I set out to try to escape—to betray Revan with my Battle Meditation—I had thought that I would be saving the Republic. But in the end, it was the Republic that saved me. If it weren't for their timing, I'm not sure what would have happened to me.

Revan had dragged me by the ear all the way to his bridge. He was angrily barking for a comm channel to be opened for Admiral Karath.

"Admiral," he seethed at the holoprojection of the admiral. "What in the Corellian hells is going on?"

"My lord, we engaged the Republic fleet and managed to lead away several groups, per your orders. However, it was all a ruse on their end as well. Several of our recce flights reported in. The Republic has just sent half of its forces around Iridonia, through the Corellian run."

Revan's eyes narrowed. "What else?"

"Sir, I wouldn't presume to return from my mission unless...They broke pursuit of my task force, my lord. We barely made it back ahead of them. They're at most ten minutes out. They aim to encircle us sir, between the two hyperspace routes."

Revan cursed under his breath. "Get your forces into position, Admiral. I want you and Admiral Heron to maneuver your fleets to face the mid-rim hyperspace route. We can't afford to lose our only escape route."

"Already doing so, sir."

Revan scowled. "I don't know whether to commend your for your initiative or kill you for abandoning your mission. But if you hold your ground in this battle, I may yet spare your miserable life."

He cut the commlink before Admiral Karath could reply. Then he turned to me.

"I don't suppose you want to voluntarily offer me the use of your Battle Meditation?" he said.

My only reply was a huff.

"I didn't think so. Shall I threaten again to bombard Iridonia? Are we back to that?"

"Go ahead," I said, my voice low so that no one else on the bridge could hear but him. "Because you know what? No matter what you say, it's not my fault. It's _yours_. You can blame others for your actions all you want. I refuse to accept that their blood will be on my hands. It's on yours. And I won't have the Republic fleet's blood on my hands again."

He glared at me in stony silence for the longest time. At last, he turned away from me. "Captain, are all the remaining decoys in place at the entrance to the Corellian run hyperspace route?"

"Yes, my lord. We completed repositioning them there twenty minutes ago."

"Good. Tell Admiral Yared's fleet to engage the Republic there. I don't want the Republic to move an inch out of that minefield when they drop."

He turned back to me. "For the record," he said, his voice suddenly calm, "I was never bluffing about Iridonia. I've simply changed my mind. Why don't we have a little bit of fun together instead before the Republic arrives?"

He grabbed my arm and began dragging me toward the bridge entrance, and through the ship. I stumbled several times, my knees still wobbly from being drugged earlier. My heart hammered in my chest. This was it. The torture I feared. He would toy with me, giving me a taste of the hell my life would become. Then he would leave me to oversee his precious battle. When he returned, he would treat me to the full torture I had earned. I would fall to the dark side. I knew that. I was already too angry and spiteful toward him not to. How much pain would I endure before I finally succumbed? Sweat dripped down my brow at the thought.

He led me through the brig entrance, past the guard station, to the interrogation room. That's when I realized that Revan's homicidal droid was following us at a distance, shadowing Revan as his protector in lieu of his honor guard.

"HK," he said gruffly, "please have the guard station send two of my honor guards from up front here. Make sure they understand that no one is to come in here but me. Wait for me there."

"Objection: But Master! You cannot trust those traitorous meatbags with your prisoner! You haven't even finished your investigation into their treachery yet. If you would like, I could save you the trouble and simply kill _all_ of them."

"Just do what I asked, HK," he growled, in no mood for his droid's antics.

"Reluctant acknowledgement. Observation: I see the Jedi meatbag has given you more trouble. Query: Shall I eliminate her for you?"

"No. I have something else planned for her." His hand squeezed my shoulder, making my skin crawl.

"Excited query: Oh Master, may I watch? You truly are an artist."

"Not now," he said, cocking his head so as to shoo the droid away. He obediently stomped off.

He punched the controls to the door and shoved me inside, the door closing behind us. "Strip," he ordered.

I froze. He wasted no time. He unclasped my belt for me and clawed at my robes to get them off.

"All right!" I said, and started to undress. As I removed the last vestige of clothing other than my undergarments, I could feel tears running down my cheeks. I let out an unwanted sob. Masters, I tried so hard to be strong, but I was falling apart.

Uncaring, Revan snapped a neural collar to my neck. "Lie down," he hissed.

I obeyed, desperately trying to contain my emotions, and failing as a whimper escaped my throat. The cold metal of the table chilled my back, making me shiver. Revan quickly added the cold metal of bindings to my wrists and ankles. My fists clenched, every muscle in my arms taut.

"You know, Bastila," Revan said. "You are correct. I really am a monster. You haven't seen the half."

My lips began to tremble. The tears were flowing freely now. There was no holding them back anymore. Already my cheeks were feeling raw.

"I've done so many monstrous things," he continued. "But I don't stop there. It's not enough that I'm a monster. I have to turn others into monsters. So many Jedi..." He heaved a sigh as he hooked an IV bag to the stand. "You're right. I haven't been loyal." He took off the wrapping of the IV needle. "I've turned all my followers into monsters like me. I took my best friend's jaw off, even. And now, I'm about to turn _you_ into a monster."

An evil grin spread across his face. He was relishing every moment of my suffering. Another sob escaped my throat. I watched as he put the IV in my arm, seeking a vein mercilessly. He at last found his target, and secured it with gauze and tape.

But he didn't turn on the drip. No, not yet. He wanted me wide awake and in pain. Instead, he withdrew an object from his robe pocket. It was a fork—with dried blood on it. The one I had stabbed him with.

"You know," he said, "you've truly inspired me. I never would have thought of using a fork in my interrogations." He pressed the fork to my bare stomach above my navel. "I suppose you've become my muse."

He dragged the fork slowly, teasingly, down my stomach, raking past my navel, stopping at my undergarment. My whole body shook, and I whimpered, causing a wicked sneer to spread across his face.

"Whatever shall I do with you now?" His smile fell as he pursed his lips. His gaze turned from predatory to contemplative, sizing me up. "I truly wish things could have been..." He shook his head, almost sadly.

He turned away, putting the fork down on a nearby counter. "If you'll excuse me, I have a battle to attend to," he said.

With that, he headed for the door. But not without turning back one last time to me. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know."

And he left, the door sliding shut behind him.

I released a shaky breath I had been holding. My body wracked with sobs. Oh Masters! I was so afraid. I don't know how long I stayed like that. I only know that I was suddenly startled from my misery by the sounds of distant sirens and cannon fire rocking the ship. The Republic had arrived. Revan's fleet was engaged.

That's when it hit me. I was still conscious. In fact, I didn't feel drugged at all. I slowly turned my head toward the IV bag, and watched. It never dripped. He hadn't turned it on.

My mind swam in confusion. Had he forgotten it? Or was he just toying with me for his amusement?

There was only one way to know for sure. This was my chance. It would never come again.

But that didn't mean it was easy. I still had to get out of the collar. And it still had an anti-tampering device on it. A desperate hope filled me—the first hope I had felt in what seemed like forever. It was that hope that kept me from screaming in pain and alerting the guards as I fought free of the collar. Just as Revan had taught me, yes...I-I did use emotion to get out of it. But this time, Masters, I used hope. Not anger, not frustration. Just hope. And after several minutes of electrifying pain, I did at last break free.

I removed the restraints in short order, with the aid of the Force. Gingerly, I stood, swallowing a bit of blood that had pooled in my mouth. I think I had bitten my tongue. My clothes were still piled on the floor. I dressed as quickly as I could. The ship was beginning to shake, the cannon fire becoming more concentrated. I grabbed the fork and prepared to leave.

I waited for the right moment before charging out. That moment came when the ship rocked from another cannon blast. I punched the door controls. The last thing the first horrified guard saw was a fork speeding toward his neck. The other I used the Force to slam into the opposite wall of the corridor. His back met the wall in a sickening crunch. I grabbed one of their blasters before fleeing down the passageway.

My body was pumped with adrenaline, feeling both elation and panic at the same time. Honestly, the rest is all a blur. I ran to the entrance of the brig, where I had to dispatch several other guards. This time, my blaster was by no means set to stun. I figured that was a mercy compared to what Revan would do for their failure. That's about all I remember as far as obstacles go. The rest was easy. I blended in with the crew, just another Dark Jedi. I actually had to force myself to slow down and act normal, though every nerve in my body was screaming for me to run. Nevertheless, I walked at a brisk pace.

I made it to the elevator, briefly deliberating whether to make for the hangar, or to one of the levels having escape pods. I decided the quickest way off the ship from my location was once again through the bridge-level escape pods. It unnerved me, stepping off the elevator and onto the deck of the main corridor. I feel Revan's presence on the other side of the bridge doors across from me. The corridor was clear of personnel. There would be no better opportunity. I took a deep breath, praying that he was too focused on the battle, praying that he wasn't merely toying with me. And I ran.

I made it to the escape pod chamber. Cautiously, I pressed the controls to the door, one hand holding my blaster at the ready. I peered in. The room was clear. As I walked toward the nearest escape pod, the door behind me swooshing shut, a feeling of disbelief spread through me. I felt almost...numb, like none of it could be real. But it was. I opened the hatch, and...

I hesitated.

Something wasn't right. But at the same time, nothing seemed wrong, either. A nagging doubt entered my mind. It was fear. Not just of some sort of trickery on Revan's part. No, I feared what the Republic would do to me. I was a traitor to them. Why would they or the Jedi want me back? I was surely tainted by the dark side. At the very least, I deserved imprisonment for what I had done.

So I stood there, too afraid to step inside, yet too afraid of staying, caught in limbo.

"Why the hell are you still here?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. Slowly, I turned around. Revan was there, leaning against the door to the bridge, his arms crossed impatiently. I hadn't even heard him enter, so engrossed had I been with my internal debate.

I know, Masters. I'm afraid I haven't been entirely...honest with you regarding my escape. I mean, yes, I was able to use the distraction the battle provided to slip away. And, yes, Revan had forgotten to set the IV drip. But Revan wouldn't just 'forget' something so important, now would he?

"So you _are_ toying with me," I said flatly. That familiar feeling of despair weighed back down on my chest.

He shook his head. "If you're going to leave, you'd better do so now. We're about to make the jump to hyperspace in a few minutes." As if to confirm the truth of his words, the ship comm began a countdown.

My jaw hung open in disbelief. "I-"

"Go on. Go."

I looked back at the escape pod opening, hesitating. "I'm a traitor," I whispered, just audibly enough for Revan to hear. "I can't go back."

"Yes, you can," he said, stepping toward me. "You were coerced. They'll understand."

I shook my head, turning my gaze back to him. "But I've fallen."

"No. Your...perspective's not...Let's just say things will be clearer for you once you get away from me. Now go, before I change my mind."

I took a shaky breath, my eyes locked onto his stern gaze. "Your honor guards..."

"Traitorous scum. A better fate than what I otherwise had in mind for them."

I shook my head again numbly. "Revan," I whispered hoarsely. "Why?"

He closed the distance between us. I never had the chance to say anything more. His lips were on mine, his hands caressing my face, running through my hair. I didn't dare breath. I...

No, Master Vrook, I didn't kiss him back. I would never! I was just as surprised as you are now.

At last his lips parted from mine, albeit slowly, lingering to stretch the moment as long as possible. I opened my eyes to see his face hovering inches from mine. I could feel his hot breath bathing my face, almost as shaky as my own. His hands cupped my cheeks. "If you tell anyone about any of this," he whispered, "I'll have HK hunt you down and kill you. Now get the hell off my ship."

With that, his hands left my cheeks and shoved my shoulders, and I stumbled back into the escape pod. The hatch slammed shut. The last I saw of him was a lecherous smirk spread across his face through the hatch window, right before he pulled the emergency release lever on the outside. The thrust from the pod launching into space knocked me forward. When I crawled back up, all I could see was a receding ship. The ship jumped into hyperspace less than a minute later, leaving nothing but swirling stars.

A half hour later, a Republic search and rescue crew opened the hatch in shock to find a hysterical woman hugging her knees, both laughing and sobbing uncontrollably at the same time.


	25. Full Circle

**CHAPTER 24 – Full Circle**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

The details of what happened right after I was found in the escape pod are a blur, I'm afraid. The search and rescue team shuttled me to Admiral Dodonna's flagship. I vaguely remembered being rushed to the medical bay. The medic wrapped me in a blanket and proceeded to examine me. By then I had finally managed to stop crying. I felt numb. Everything was surreal. I simply could not believe I had escaped. It was like I had at last woken from a nightmare.

I don't remember much of what the medic said to me, other than that he showed concern for the scar on the back of my neck. I was subjected to quite the battery of tests for it, though I told him I was fine. At least I was rewarded at the end with the first hot meal I'd had in days. I was even more grateful when he showed me to a cot and gave me something to help me sleep.

When I awoke hours later, my prior dread of the Republic's reaction to my betrayal set in. Despite the kind treatment I had received, I knew both the Republic and the Jedi Order would want answers. I just didn't know for sure if mine would be good enough. As it turned out, it wasn't long after I had woken up that I found out how thin their patience had worn to hear those answers. An ensign stopped by the medbay and escorted me to Admiral Dodonna's ready room. I quietly followed, my head bowed in trepidation, as well as shame. Apparently word had spread quickly that I was back. Every head turned to look at me as I passed down the corridors. Only, I wasn't sure if they condemned me or welcomed me. I didn't dare look them in the eye to find out. After all, I was still wearing the garb of a Dark Jedi. I had thought the conclusion they would have drawn to be obvious. In retrospect, I think they were more shocked than anything.

I swallowed hard as I stepped into the ready room. Admiral Dodonna was seated at the table, along with Master Vandar, whom I was surprised to see.

"Commander Shan," the admiral said, waving her hand at the array of chairs. "Please, have a seat."

It was with trembling hands that I sat down across from her and Master Vandar, though I folded them to try to hide it.

"I can't say how relieved we all are that you are safe," the admiral continued, seating herself once more. "Four months, and no word, no sign? We feared you were dead."

"Has it really been four months?" I asked. She nodded. We shared a few moments of uncomfortable silence. At least, it was uncomfortable for me. I didn't wait to be asked any questions. Taking a deep breath, I at last summoned the courage to speak, my throat and chest tightening.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice hoarse. "I know I don't deserve forgiveness, but I ask it from you all the same." I hung my head, avoiding eye contact.

It was Master Vandar who spoke next. "Bastila, we know there is far more here than meets the eye. We have not passed judgment on you yet."

I hesitatingly raised my eyes to meet his, and nodded. "Yes, Master. I-I wasn't...I never..."

Admiral Dodonna nodded encouragingly. "Go on. We're listening."

"It was never my intent to betray the Republic. He threatened me. I mean...not just me. He threatened to bombard Iridonia if I didn't. All those civilians...I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry."

Understanding lit their eyes. "Yes, this makes much sense," Master Vandar said.

"It certainly explains Revan's fleet positions," the admiral said, nodding in agreement. "We'd thought he was about to do something like that, except we never received any transmission from him. I found it strange that he would suddenly be so petty, and forget to tell us to back down."

I exhaled in relief, and at last the tightness in my throat and chest left me. "Actually," I said, "he really is that petty." I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the imagery of those horrid moments. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

I heard Admiral Dodonna get up from her chair and walk around the table to me. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and opened my eyes, looking up at her.

"Commander, you have nothing to be sorry for. We are so proud of you."

"Proud? But why?" I shook my head. "I...I fell. To the dark side. I gave into fear."

"No, young one," Master Vandar said. "You showed great courage. It is natural to fear. But a true Jedi overcomes it, and follows what is right."

A tear slipped down my cheek. I had been so certain that I had failed them all.

"Commander," Admiral Dodonna interjected, "if it hadn't been for you, we would have lost the ship yards. You did something incredibly brave, knowing that there would be retaliation. I only wish we could have managed to board Revan's ship. We very much wanted to rescue you. Please forgive us our failure."

"But I nearly cost you Iridonia!"

The admiral sighed. "We don't blame you for what you did. I might very well have done the same, with so many civilians' lives at stake. That could not have been an easy decision."

"Still...I know you felt betrayed. I could feel it."

"Betrayed?" Master Vandar said. "No. Dismayed? Yes. Feared for what Revan had done to you? Yes. It would have been rash indeed to assume betrayal."

"But I felt it!"

"Commander," the admiral said, "I think you only felt what your own heart felt. Come. Let me show you how we really feel."

She walked toward the door, and I rose and followed her, Master Vandar trailing behind. She led us to the bridge. When I entered, what greeted me rendered me speechless.

"Attention on deck!" someone shouted. Everyone snapped to attention, all eyes fixed on me.

"At ease!" Admiral Dodonna said. "Let's give Commander Shan a warm welcome."

They clapped for me. Cheered even. Threw their hats up! Tears stung my eyes. I struggled to hold them back, but I couldn't help myself. I wiped my eyes, and caught a glimpse of Master Vandar next to me, peering up at my emotional display.

"I'm sorry, Master," I said. "I know I should have more control than this."

His hand grabbed the hem of my robe. "No need to apologize, Bastila. You have been through much. There will be time enough for you to heal and make peace."

I smiled genuinely for the first time in...Well I don't really remember how long it had been. Relief washed over me. And determination. I wanted to earn back their trust with all my being.

"So, Commander," Admiral Dodonna said. "Enjoying your welcome party?"

"Thank you, admiral. It's more than I deserve."

"Enough of that talk. What's done is done. Am I right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Although, inquiring minds wish to know: How did you ever manage to escape?"

**.:.**

It was Master Vandar who fully debriefed me. I never did tell anyone the complete truth—that Revan had let me go. I simply told everyone that he'd forgotten to turn on the IV drip, which was partially true. I'm sorry, Masters. I just didn't want to ever see that demonic droid again. I hope you understand. Though, I must confess I was nervous that everyone would see me as having been compromised emotionally. In truth, it was all him, but I was worried nonetheless. Please forgive me, Masters. It was a confusing time for me.

Master Vandar and I couldn't head back to Dantooine for another month. While the Republic had driven Revan's fleet from Iridonia, they had yet to secure its hyperspace routes to the outer rim. I did my best to help with my Battle Meditation. However, Revan was down to playing hide and seek with his fleet. For the most part, he refused to face us head on. He was no fool. He would not be able to garner reinforcements quickly enough to hold his ground. Between skirmishes, I spent much time with Master Vandar. I knew he was assessing my condition. I don't blame you, Master. In fact, I thank you for your counsel. I...I was so lost and...confused. I had tasted darkness, and I know that concerned you. But if there is anything I learned from the experience, it is that I came out stronger for it. Stronger to resist the lure of the dark side. After what I had been through, I could never imagine myself giving in.

As you all know, when at last we could finally return home, I was put under more stringent evaluation. First, I know I created quite a stir when I related the Force bond Revan had created between us. I don't blame you for wanting to make sure the bond had sufficient time to fade before sending me against his fleet in battle. I, myself, was worried about it. It may have been only a small bond, but I knew he could influence me with it. I know some among the Council were uncertain as to my loyalties. They were rightfully worried that my fling with the dark side had tainted my soul. Furthermore, I believe the general consensus was that I was still suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, though no one would tell me directly. Nevertheless, it was rather obvious to me why I was detained from further participation in the war for another two months. Master Vrook made it a point to put me through a vigorous training regimen. I think it was to take my mind off of things. It helped. It made it feel like old times. I was grateful for the stability he provided.

Nevertheless, the Republic needed my help. By the time I was called upon again, the bond had seemingly faded to nothing. It hadn't taken long for Revan to replace his ships. Likewise, he had somehow managed to fill those ships with more defectors and recruits. He had soon regained his footing and was once again repelling the Republic relentlessly back. I spent the next eight months paying for my sins. It was strange, being fully on opposite sides again. Even though our bond had faded, he knew whenever I was present. I could imagine his frustration—particularly towards himself. I knew he regretted letting me go. I was always relieved whenever Revan was not present at a battle. Not that it wasn't a challenge whether he was there or not. Let's just say he has a better grasp than most—especially Malak—on how to counter my Battle Meditation. He was always trying new ways to foil me. Sometimes I could almost feel him brooding from his flagship, contemplating his next move against the arch-enemy he had so foolishly released.

I never told you this before, Masters, but I think he kept tabs on me. I thought at first I was simply being paranoid, which is why I never said anything. Still, now that I look back, I suppose it makes sense that he would. Every few weeks, I would turn my head to look behind me, and catch a glimpse of a red droid. If I so much as blinked, it would be gone. It could very well have been a figment of my imagination. After all, how would an assassin droid ever make it past ship security? Still, it shook me. Had Revan changed his mind? Did he want me dead? Was he observing me? Whatever it was, eventually my droid sightings stopped, as of two months ago. Perhaps by then the stress of it all had faded, returning my sanity to me.

As you know, things in the war took a turn for the worst last month. Revan was once again brutally pushing his way back into the core worlds. We surely stood to lose Iridonia again. That is when we also had our chance to capture Revan. Thanks to intelligence reports, we knew that both he and Malak would be en route to Iridonia with their two fleets to take the planet. We decided to risk it all. With my knowledge of Revan's ship, I led a small boarding party to capture Revan. My Battle Meditation would pave the way for us to board. It was a desperate act, but we knew we needed the respite that his death would create. All those Sith fighting for control of the Empire...Even if Malak comes out on top, it will take time—time that we desperately need to regain our bearings. But most of all, if we could manage to capture Revan alive (as we have), we could use his knowledge to discover the secret to his infinite fleet.

So it was that we enacted our daring plan, risking everything. We had nothing to lose, really. We already were losing. When our strike team's ship punched through the hangar of Revan's flagship, it was with a steely determination. Failure was not an option. Per our plan, once we had subdued the hangar, we split up, one group being a diversion, and the rest of us using an alternative route. It was risky to assume that the _Leviathan_ and Revan's flagship shared the same design in the ventilation system and...waste disposal system. But I knew it was a sure route, albeit smelly. I regret the other team never made it to the elevator. Still, everyone knew how suicidal it all was. We needed the distraction. But our presence was revealed soon enough, when we tried to make for the elevator upon exiting the ventilation system. Several of my team were struck down, but we pressed on.

We rode the elevator to the bridge level. That's when things took a strange turn. When the doors parted, we found the corridor devoid of personnel. It was as though we had an open invitation. I was certain Revan was aware that we had boarded, and that we had made it to the elevator. I would have thought there would be soldiers and Dark Jedi between us and the bridge. Was this some ploy to take me captive again? To ensure I wasn't mistakenly killed? By now my team only consisted of myself, three other Jedi, and a Republic soldier. It would be such a trivial thing for him to overwhelm us on his bridge with even a small handful of Dark Jedi.

I swallowed hard, and led us ahead to the bridge doors. They opened without us even having to punch the controls. We strode in cautiously, brandishing our lightsabers.

And there he was, facing the viewport.

But he was not alone. Sure enough, there were Dark Jedi between us and him. We fought them, pressing further into the room. The soldier...Revan strangled him without so much as shifting his gaze from the viewport, or raising his hand. My heart threatened to stop in my chest, and I struggled for control over my emotions. With a few more decisive strokes I finished off my opponent. The others lined up beside me, having neutralized the remaining Dark Jedi.

A cold silence filled the room. Time itself held its breath seemingly forever. At last, Revan spoke, his voice modulator as cold as his heart.

"I knew you would come for me," he said, still facing the viewport.

"Surrender, Revan. We will show you mercy."

"You should not have come back."

"And why is that?" I asked, stalling for time, knowing that I would likely have to fight him.

He let out a stiff chuckle. "You know what they say: If you love something, set it free...If it comes back, chain it forever so it can never leave again." He shook his hooded head. "I cannot guarantee I'll be as kind to you as last time."

"You're outnumbered. Don't be foolish."

"Foolish?" I didn't need a Force bond to feel the derision emanating from his hulking form. Still, my companions and I held our ground.

He shook his head once more. "No, you are the foolish one to think you can exploit my weakness for you."

The Jedi to my left interjected. "What is he talking about?" he whispered.

But Revan ignored him, addressing only me. "You are sorely mistaken, Bastila, if you think I care for you enough to spare your life. It's too late for me. I've been on this path for far too long. I...I don't have the strength to do the right thing again. I can't stop. Not for anything. Even if I must kill you, or turn you."

With that, he slowly turned around to face me, reaching for his lightsaber as he did so.

"You cannot win, Revan," I said, though not feeling nearly as brave as my words were.

He wordlessly ignited his lightsaber, and stepped toward us, raising the blade high, poised to strike.

And he hesitated. It seemed like we stood there forever, staring each other down. His hand almost seemed to...to loosen its grip ever so slightly on his lightsaber. I almost thought that maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to go through with it.

But Malak stole his choice from him. My eyes widened when I saw a ship through the viewport firing at us. There was no time to react. In a blinding flash, I was knocked to the floor. I hit my head hard. The last thing I remember before losing consciousness was the ship violently shaking.

I came to minutes later, and lifted my head. My companions were dead, buried, or impaled in rubble. Fortunately, the viewport transparisteel was still intact, with no hull breaches anywhere else. I gingerly crawled over to the lump on the floor that was Darth Revan. I had to know. I had to be sure.

I gazed down at him for several moments. I could hear him breathing softly through his mask, but barely. With trembling hands, I removed his mask. His yellow eyes were half-closed and vacant. I felt around his head. His hair was slick with blood. He was near death.

I stretched out in the Force, and tried to heal him. Only, it wasn't enough. I could feel him slip away even as I struggled to pull him back. Masters, forgive me. I was desperate to save him, to give him a second chance, to show him compassion. There was but one thing left I could think of.

Our old Force bond. Yes, it was severed—or, more precisely, it had faded away. But I could still feel it, much like an amputee can feel the missing appendage. I remembered that Revan had once told me how Force bonds could be used to heal. So I stretched out with my mind, feeling for it, willing our minds to connect. I promise you, Masters, it was not my intent to reawaken our bond, let alone make it so strong. But there was little time to think through the full implications of what I was doing. Of all things, I used my Battle Meditation to touch his mind, hoping that any remnant of our old bond would respond. All my energy I poured into him.

And just like that, he took a sharp breath. I collapsed beside him, spent.


	26. Epilogue

**EPILOGUE**

_Disclaimer: The term Star Wars, the Star Wars logo, and all names and pictures of Star Wars characters, vehicles, concepts and items are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd., or their respective holders. There is no attempt to profit by their use. The author is not endorsed by or affiliated with Lucasfilm, Ltd. The author is too poor to be worth the lawsuit._

"There is not much else to tell, Masters," I said. "I managed to drag his body through his broken ship back to the hangar. The crew had already evacuated. Our ship miraculously had not been used to escape. I did what I could to keep him alive on the journey home. And, obviously, I managed to wash up after having been through the waste disposal system of Revan's ship. I only regret I was not able to heal his mind better."

My tale concluded, I fell silent at last, waiting anxiously. It had taken several sessions over several days for me to recount everything. Well, almost everything. Enough, or so I hoped.

It was Master Zhar who spoke first. "Bastila, thank you for telling us everything. We know it was hard for you to relive such a traumatic experience. We will, of course, require more time to deliberate Revan's fate based on this new information."

I nodded. "Of course, Master."

"We will send word," Master Vandar said, "when we have come to a decision."

With that, I bowed, and left the Council chambers. For about a week, I spent every day with the healers, helping them heal Revan's mind with our bond. At least the Masters allowed that much. But what they'll ultimately do with him, I'm not sure. They are taking a very long time to debate among themselves. As of a few days ago, the healers said I could be of no further help.

And so here I am, waiting. By day, I browse the gardens, or practice lightsaber forms in the training room. By night, I get little sleep, my many worries cycling through my mind. Right now, I'm in the gardens again, reading a datapad, though my eyes refuse to focus on the words. I find myself reminiscing, wondering where I went wrong in telling my story to the Council. Wondering if there was something more I could have said to change their minds. And now I'm wondering what more there is that I could do right now. It just doesn't seem right. I should be doing something. I feel restless in every way. And useless.

I hear a twig snap, and I look up to see Master Zhar approaching. I lay down my pad.

"Master, have they decided?" I ask.

He sits beside me on the grass. I wait patiently as he takes a deep breath. By that gesture alone I know the news is grim. "We have decided not to leave him comatose."

I sigh in relief, only for him to raise his hand.

"However," he says, "he is to have his identity reprogrammed. He is not to remember his former life. The consensus is that even were he to offer his help willingly, that he is far too treacherous to trust."

A sick feeling washes over me. "But, Master! Surely that is no different from killing him?"

He shakes his head. "I am sorry, but there is no other way. The galaxy is burning. We cannot risk any deception from Revan. With your bond, you should still able to access his repressed memories. Given enough time, it is our hope that you will glean enough information from him to find the source of his infinite fleet."

I hang my head. "I understand, Master."

"But I have some good news as well."

My head snaps up. "Yes?"

A knowing smile stretches across his face. Though I'm not sure just how knowing it is, which makes me wonder how much he guesses.

"He's awake," he says.

I gape dumbly at him. "A-awake? Already?"

He nods. "Yes. As of several hours ago. He is recovering remarkably well under our care. Though much thanks goes to you. You did half of the work on the way here."

"What is his condition? I mean, he did take much damage to his head."

"He seems coherent enough, but he doesn't remember how he got here."

"Not surprising."

"No, some amnesia is to be expected. I wouldn't be surprised if there are other gaps in his memory here and there, though he has yet to mention anything. However, the majority seems to be intact."

"That's...that's good news..." I trail off. It doesn't feel much like good news.

"But not the kind of good news you wished to hear?"

I shake my head. "Well, of course I want to hear it. I just..."

He gives me that knowing smile again. "He's asking for you."

"What?"

"Do you wish to see him?"

"I-I..." I have no answer to that question. At least, none that I can honestly tell him.

Master Zhar lays his hand on my shoulder. "The procedure begins tomorrow morning. We haven't yet broken the news to him. We think it best that you tell him, if you're up to it. If not, I promise you he will be sedated before we begin tomorrow. You do not have to speak with him if you do not wish to do so."

I close my eyes for a moment. Do I really wish to see him? Then again, he won't remember after tomorrow anyway, so what harm could there be?

I open my eyes again. "Yes, you're right. It should come from me. I brought him here, after all."

He nods, smiling reassuringly. "Come, then. I have to warn you, though. He's a bit cranky, even as far as Sith Lords go."

I stifle a laugh. Revan's always a bit cranky.

**.:.**

I follow Master Zhar through the Enclave to the medical ward, and at last we come to a door guarded by two young Padawans. I wait for him to open the door, but he stops, turning to me. I look back at him uncertainly.

"If you like," he says, "you may speak with him alone."

"Alone?"

"You will be more than safe. He is restrained and heavily drugged. Besides, I think he would feel less threatened with only one of us in the room. It is best for his recovery if he remains calm. I don't want him to feel outnumbered."

"I-I don't think..."

He puts his hand on my shoulder again. "Bastila, say your goodbyes," he says softly, just loudly enough for me and me alone to hear.

I nod slowly, and take a deep breath. Master Zhar presses the door controls for me, and I step inside, the door swooshing shut behind me.

And there he is. Not looking much better than I had left him several days ago. But, still, at least his head isn't as swollen. His face is looking far more hale. My eyes can't help but drift to the cuffs on both his wrists, as well as to the neural collar around his neck. The setup for this room is not unlike that of Revan's interrogation table—only with a padded mattress, pillow, and sheets.

He appears to be asleep, but I know better. Now that we are in close proximity, I can feel through our bond that he's half awake. His eyelids slide open in confirmation.

"I didn't think you'd come," he says, his voice sounding slightly raspy.

I pull up a chair and sit down next to him. I honestly don't know what to say. I stare down at my hands, fidgeting.

But apparently he can't stand the silence. "If you wanted me this badly, you didn't have to tie me down and drug me."

He gives me a strained, but still infuriating, grin. I roll my eyes, shaking my head. No wonder the Masters had decided to wipe his identity. "I see your sense of humor is still intact, even if your manners are missing."

His grin is replaced with a more serious expression. "They told me you saved my life," he says.

I nod quietly.

"Why?"

I look up at his face. Why did I do it? I told the Council it was out of compassion. That's all it was, wasn't it? But for some reason, I can't tell him that same answer.

"Have you eaten anything?" I ask.

"A little," he says. "It was a while ago."

"I'll have something brought up," I say, rising from my chair and heading for the door. "Are you up for something solid?"

"Definitely."

I open the door, instantly grabbing the attention of the Padawans outside. "Would one of you please bring me an order of nerf steak and eggs from the kitchen, please? Eggs over medium, steak medium rare."

I close the door and sit back down. But Revan isn't about to let me off the hook.

"You didn't answer my question," he says.

"Isn't the answer obvious? I'm a Jedi, after all."

An uneasy silence passes between us. I find myself fidgeting with my hands again, unable to look him in the eye.

"I take it you have bad news," he says at last.

I nod quietly.

"What? Did your pet kath hound die? I'm not sure how any bad news related to me would give you such a sad face."

My head shoots up. "I-I'm not sad. I just..."

He looks back at me quizzically, though I can see a flicker of worry in his eyes.

I decide its best to get it over with. "The Council has asked me to tell you this: You're to have your identity reprogrammed. First thing in the morning."

I expected a look of shock, but instead he merely nods his head solemnly. "I see," he says. "You would murder me."

"It's not the same thing!"

He shakes his head. "I won't be me anymore."

"I-I..."

A slight chuckle escapes his lips. "Now who's the monster?"

I avert my eyes, my cheeks burning with shame. I do feel like a monster for being a part of this.

"Tell me, Bastila. How exactly does it benefit anyone to have my identity erased?"

"They...don't believe you would help them willingly, even if you say you will."

"And wiping my identity fixes that how?"

"We plan to access your memories after the procedure. It will take time, but..."

He snorts. "Good luck with that. You'd need quite a Force bond to..." He trails off, his eyes widening in realization. "Clever girl," he says, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. "I knew you'd be good at creating Force bonds. Did you figure it out on your own?"

I nod. "It was how I was able to keep you alive."

"I see. That's quite a strong desire to see me live."

"Well, Jedi are supposed to be compassionate."

"Mmm hmm."

"And the galaxy is burning. What other choice did I have?"

"Oh, of course."

"What? Are you trying to imply that I have other motives?"

"Well, Master Zhar did tell me that you put up quite a fight in the Council chambers for me."

I shoot up from my chair, my hands on my hips. "Yes, I was trying to save your life! You should thank me."

"For what? They're going to wipe my identity."

"For trying so hard? For practically begging them on your behalf? I may never be able to take my trials because of what I said in there."

"What _did_ you say in there?" He cocks an eyebrow, an infuriating smirk on his face.

"I gave them the full details. I told them you let me go."

"Something tells me you didn't divulge absolutely _everything_. Otherwise they might mind-wipe you along with me."

I lean over the rail of his bed, a smirk twitching on my face. "Careful, Revan. We wouldn't want you to be 'accidentally' mind-wiped into a vegetable, now would we? I mean, I will be there to help with the procedure."

He smiles back knowingly, his eyes clearly reminiscing. "Your secret's safe with me."

A knock on the door interrupts us. I open it and take the tray from the Padawan, thanking him as the door shuts. I set the tray down on the nightstand next to the bed.

"Think you can sit up?" I ask. He nods, and I press the bed controls, elevating him into a sitting position.

"Well, as far as last meals go, I hope you like it," I say, cutting up his steak with the wobbly plastic fork and knife provided, and trying not to snap the feeble fork tangs.

"Couldn't ask for better," he says with a sad smile. I lift the fork to his mouth, and he cringes. "Sure you're not going to stab me with that?"

"Only if you continue to be impossible. Besides, it's plastic. Now eat."

I proceed to feed him one bite at a time, pausing now and then only to wipe a bit of runny egg off his chin with a napkin. He eats his last meal in silence this way. At last, I set the fork down, and wipe his chin one last time.

I fold my hands, fidgeting again, not knowing what to say. Actually, I do know what to say. It's more of a question, really. But I'm afraid to ask it. I know I may not like the answer. But I have to know. I have to know if...

"Revan," I start, looking down at my hands. "There's something I'd like to ask you."

"Go on."

"If you were...if you were given the option, would you..."

"Would I help you?"

I nod. "Yes."

He heaves a sigh. The silence stretches between us seemingly forever. Perhaps some questions are best left unanswered. Especially when you already know the answer. I guess the Masters are right. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking on my part.

"Never mind," I say, getting up to leave.

"I don't know."

I freeze in my tracks. Turning back to him, I search his face questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"What your Masters say about the dark side...They're right. Once you start down the dark path, it will forever dominate your destiny. I'm not strong enough to turn back on my own."

"So the answer is no."

"That's not what I said. I do want to help you."

"And why is that?"

"For the same reason I shoved you into an escape pod."

I feel like a nerf in a speeder's headlights. I don't know how to reply to that.

"Bastila, I've burned every bridge in my life but one. You. I don't want to burn that last bridge. You saved my life, and I'm not even sure what you found worth saving. But I owe you all the same."

"Revan," I whisper, "a spark of the light lives in you still. I know it."

He shakes his head. "Even if I were to start out by helping you, I don't know how long I could resist temptation. I don't blame your Masters for not trusting me. I certainly don't trust myself."

I heave a sigh. He seems to have so much regret. At the same time, he seems to be accepting his fate with all the calm of a true Jedi. Even I am not that calm right now. Although I suppose being heavily medicated would make all the difference.

Then it occurs to me. I owe him something. In a strange, twisted sort of way. Yes, I saved his life; but I am about to take it again in the morning. That makes us even. Except for one thing.

I make a snap decision. "Well, I...I should be going," I say, and I take a step toward the nightstand to pick up the tray containing the plate and plastic silverware. Only, the IV stand is conveniently between the nightstand and the bed. I grab the IV tubing, pinching it. Looking back at Revan, I see he has arched an eyebrow in confusion.

Before picking up the tray, I move the plastic fork to the nightstand, and flash Revan a smirk that would rival one of his own. At last his eyes widen as the realization of what I am doing sets in. He returns my smirk tenfold with a wide grin.

I turn away, carrying the tray toward the door. Before I can step through, however, Revan stops me.

"Bastila," he says.

I don't turn around to look back, and instead stare at the door in front of me, waiting for him to continue.

"Thank you."

"For what?" I ask, my voice directed at the door.

"For giving me a second chance."

I shake my head with a grin that I can't quite stop from spreading even wider. "I'll see you in the morning," I say, punching the door controls with one hand, while balancing the tray with the other. I step through, and politely give the two Padawans outside a nod. They seem a bit taken aback at my wide grin, but I ignore them and continue walking.

My grin wanes a little at the thought of what I just set the poor dears up for. But, no, Revan isn't likely to make it too far in his condition. And with a _plastic_ fork? I doubt a few stitches and a kolto pack would do those Padawans any harm. No, I'm more concerned that someone will put two and two together and figure out where the fork came from and how the IV tubing got pinched. I have a feeling, however, that Master Zhar will cover for me. He seems to guess at much. Just how much, I'm not so sure. I don't think he guesses everything. He'd never let me in that room alone, otherwise. The entire thing seems to have gone over Master Vandar's head. He is simply too alien to understand humans. It's Master Vrook I have to worry about. He had already guessed as I was telling my story. I'm not sure if he entirely believes me, and once he hears of this...

No, I think Master Zhar allowed me in that room alone for a reason. He will cover for me, I think. Though I'm not so sure why. Perhaps it is because Revan was his own Padawan for a time. Or maybe he feels that any supposed attachment between us (which there really isn't) is harmless, since Revan is being mind-wiped anyway.

As I make my way toward the kitchen to dispose of the tray, I can't help but draw the conclusion that reprogramming Revan's identity is ultimately for the best. It just may be the thing that finally frees him from the dark side, returning to him his choices between right and wrong.

But mostly, I really can't afford for him to remember certain things. He'd never let me live it down, for one.

And I'll never take my trials if the Masters find out that I kissed him back.

**.:.**

A/N: That's it! The end! Fin! I hope it was everything you ever wanted. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thank you all for the kind reviews. They certainly kept me going!

Now, many people have been asking if there will be a sequel. I'm afraid the answer is no, there will not be a sequel. I originally planned for this story to come full circle to the beginning of KOTOR. When so many of you began asking for a sequel, I did take time to reevaluate where I wanted to leave off with this story. While I can think of a few AU KOTOR scenarios, all of them involve at least a partial walk-through of the game. Let's face it. Walk-throughs are boring (usually). Very few authors can pull them off, and even if I end up being one of them, I find developing my own original plots to be far more interesting. It's also the reason I'm here-to practice writing my own plots.

Furthermore, sequels are rarely as good as or better than the originals. It may be Star Wars blasphemy to say this, but you know _Return of the Jedi _over-milked the original idea when it resorted to rehashing the Death Star (and let's not even get into the teddy bears with spears). I feel there's a high likelihood that if I were to write a sequel, I would inadvertently milk the original idea to death and resurrect this story's Death Star.

Nevertheless, I'm flattered that so many people want more. It means I wrote a decent story! Thank you for all of your support!

A few things before I sign off. First, you will note that I have posted revisions of every single chapter. Now you can read a more polished version of the story. Nothing major changed, just spelling/grammar/better phrasing.

In addition, I have already begun work some time ago on a Mandalorian War AU. It's still in the plot development stage, so stay tuned! I plan for it to be more full-length novel size than Second Chances is-around 100,000 words or so. Yes, it will feature Revan and Bastila, with Bastila as the primary protagonist. (Wait! _Primary_? Isn't that redundant? No, it isn't. In my philosophy, every character should think they're the protagonist. All they know is that some jerk is in the way of their goals and is getting more screen time.) Unlike Second Chances, I plan for my next AU to have a wildly different ending from what you'd expect. It will not come full circle to KOTOR 1. Because if I have to write the scene were Revan is captured on his own bridge one more time...

Finally, even though this story is over, if you are reading it for the first time, please post a review. No matter how much time may have passed since this last chapter was posted, I'm still set to receive review alerts in my e-mail. I'd love to hear from you. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Thanks, again, everyone, for all the reviews! It's been fun!


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